Raven

This is mine? There must be a mistake. There's no way something this beautiful can be meant for me. Maybe mine was accidentally swapped with anther girls? The dress on my bed is high at the neck, but sleeveless. Silver sequins shimmer on the bodice, they look like stars against the navy fabric.

"Make sure your overnight bag is downstairs by the door. Now. Not in ten minutes, not five, now. Don't forget your toothbrush and pajamas. Clothes for tomorrow," Ms. Kinders yells from the hall. "Be downstairs in an hour and ready to go!"

The other girls are already fighting over the bathroom mirrors to do their hair and makeup. I run a brush through my hair before looking at the dress again.

"Aren't you going to put it on?" I turn around. Mrs. Huntington is watching me from the door. She smiles a little, but it doesn't feel like a happy one. Her dress is black. It's high at the neck too, with long sleeves and fits her form. With her hair up in a high bun above her head, she's every imagination of a headmistress or a witch. The other girls will probably giggle and whisper when they see her, if they haven't already.

"I wasn't sure it was for me." The fabric is thin, but soft between my fingers. It must have been expensive.

"You have to wear a dress. Every girl is," she says matter-o-factly. I guess if she had gotten me an ugly dress, it would have stood out. The other girls didn't leave their dresses on their beds. They'll never forget what I did, but I saw them carry them to the bathroom. The glimpses I caught of them were pretty too. Every bit as stunning as this one. "Get dressed." I hear her head down the hall, perhaps to go bother someone else.

The dress fits perfect, like it was made for me. The back is so long it almost touches the floor, but the front lifts up to the top of my ankles. Feet... This dress will look ridiculous with either of the two pairs of shoes I own. Gym sneakers or a dirty, all but falling apart pair of black flats.

"Good, come downstairs," Mrs. Huntington says from the door. I grab my flats and follow her downstairs. She probably wants to tell me the rules, like no talking to anyone and basically be as invisible as possible, which hopefully won't be hard with all the other kids vying for people's attention. The other girls were whispering all night about how they would captivate some of the rich guests into wanting to adopt them. It's a fairy-tale, but of course no one said that outload, not even me. I wasn't part of the conversation and I had no business bursting their bubbles. They were easier to deal with when they were in dreamland.

When we get into her office, she motions for me to sit, so I take the chair I hate most in this house, the one in front of her desk. She doesn't move to her usual spot though. Instead, she reaches for a silver bag on her desk and bends down in space between me and the desk. Her fingers fumble with the zipper, but she opens it and pulls out a long black tube.

"Close your eyes a little and don't move," she twists the tube and a little brush thing comes out on a wand. She waves it in front of my face and it's a struggle not to move as she puts it in front of my eyes.

"What are you doing?" I try not to move as I talk, because whatever she's doing is probably not going to kill me and so far, it doesn't hurt.

"The other girls are all going to be wearing makeup. Aren't you jealous that you don't have any?" she asks. This is weird. Why would she care if I was jealous? Isn't she always telling me how much harder they have it than me?

"No." I also just don't care much about makeup. I've got no one to impress. I certainly don't want to impress him or his followers.

"This is the only night you'll ever have to wear a fancy dress and makeup. You'd best enjoy it." Her words don't make any sense. I'm not going for the sake of enjoyment. I'm going, because I don't have a choice. I'm going because she thinks it's riskier if I stay here.

When she's done applying the mascara, she does something to my eyebrows and puts lip-gloss on my lips. Then she hands me a few bobby pins.

"Let's fix this mess." She puts her hand to the side of my head and I feel her pull the left side of my hair back. "Pin." I hand her a bobby pin and she place it in, then another and one more.

"There. Very pretty." Did she hit her head or something? She looks at me for a minute longer before going back around to the other side of her desk. She bends down for a minute and when she rises, she has a brown box in her hands. "Here." She slides it across the desk to me. "Don't dally, I've still got a lot to do before we leave." I take the lid off the box. It's a new pair of shoes. Navy with rhinestones on the front and a low heel in the back, a strap across the ankle. She takes them out of the box and drops them on my lap, impatient.

"Remember the rules. Don't talk to anyone and don't use your powers. Try to keep a low profile," she says. "It would be better if you weren't coming, but we don't have a choice..."

"I know." It's against the rules for me to go, but I've already told her that and she doesn't care. There won't be anyone else here and I can't stay alone. The other staff members ignore a lot, but they won't ignore that. They'd want answers and she can't give them any. If she told them about him and the reason I'm here, they either wouldn't believe her or worse, they would.

"No matter what happens. Don't use your powers," she repeats. "Promise me." I look up and nod.

"I promise." I won't break the rules. I put the shoes on and put my old flats in the empty box. She throws the box in the trash and I frown, because I wear those shoes every day. After the dance I'll have to wear the sneakers until they decide I need another pair of shoes, which might be never.

"Your friends are probably looking for you. Go ahead and go to the library, be downstairs on time to leave." I nod and leave as fast as I can. She's being weird and I don't like it. Never, not once, has she been nice to me... Except after the incident last year, but that hardly counts. Especially since she stuck me in the basement.

When I get to the library Garfield and Richard are sitting at our usual table. They look up when I enter and their faces break into grins. Richard whistles.

"Huba, huba." Garfield says.

"Shut-up." My face is getting hot. They're wearing suits and have combed their hair back. For once, we all look nice.

"They actually got you to wear a dress?" Richard says.

"We were taking bets on what color suit you'd get." Garfield grins.

"Shut-up," I repeat, as I take my seat.

"You look really pretty though," Richard adds.

"Everyone is going to stare at you," Garfield says. That's not what I want to hear. My jaw clenches tight. What if they do stare? What if I'm not able to blend in? No... That's dumb... The other girls are wearing pretty dresses too and they're all putting on makeup to make themselves even prettier. No one will notice me... I'll just keep my head down and it will be fine. We'll survive. There's no reason to think any of his followers will be there anyway... This is a big city, in a big world. They could be anywhere.

"Something wrong?" Richard asks. I shake my head.

"You can't change your mind now." Garfield says. "You have to come. I want at least two people who are actually laughing because my jokes are funny, not because I'm green."

"We're not going to laugh, because you're not funny," I mumble. Richard laughs and Garfield punches him in the shoulder.