Chapter 13: The Tube of Red Lipstick
Rosalie's POV
I glared at everything. I glared at the TV. I glared at the curtains. I glared at the coffee table. I glared at the chair. I glared at the person sitting in the chair.
"What?" Emmett McCarty asked innocently, having no clue why I was sitting on the couch in the Cullen living room, just glaring at him as he lifted a ding belle. He set down the heavy weight a little too hard, and we both flinched as it crashed against the hard wood floor. We both looked at the dent it left. His eyes widened as he quickly pulled the rug closer, covering the dent. I rolled my eyes. Idiot.
"You're such a retard." I hissed, still glaring at him as I sat on the couch. He smiled a mischievous grin.
"That's not a nice word, Ms. Hale." He tsked. "Retard is a disability."
"Would you like me to give you a disability?" I hissed, narrowing my eyes. He sat back, taking my threat seriously.
"Naw, I'm good."
He sat back and picked up the ding belle and continued lifting, while I presumed my previous glare directed at him. We sat like that in silence for a while, before I let out an agitated sigh.
"What's wrong? Break a nail?" McCarty laughed.
"UGHH!" I groaned in frustration, picking up the TV remote and chucking it across the room at him. He ducked and it flew past him, just as the front door opened and it ricocheted off of the corner of the door. Edward walked in followed by Swan, and they looked around in alert.
"There will be no throwing of controllers in this house!" Edward faked sternness.
"What'd ya do, Hale? Break a nail?" Swan rhymed, cocking her head to the side and popping her mouth in a 'O' shape. Emmett erupted into laughter, having said the same thing only moments ago. This was so irritating, this entire situation. I hated everyone in this goddamn house. I hated having to be here. When was my mother coming back?
As Swan and McCarty joined in laughter, Edward watched them curiously. I huffed and folded my arms across my chest, glaring at Swan, who was laughing so hard that her and McCarty fell to the floor. When she fell, though, she flinched, and gave a little squeak, before she stopped.
"Looks like Swan may just be an ugly duckling." I sneered, making fun of her squeak. She glared at me, and opened her mouth to retort, but the doorbell rang. I smiled as she became completely still and a blank look crossed her face.
Quietly, Edward walked over to the door and yanked it open, revealing the same boy that was over here yesterday. Swan's boyfriend.
I had to admit, I was furious she was going out with him. He was, well, good looking. And she, well, looked like shit. She was a plain jane. An ugly duckling. I couldn't grasp the concept that he would go for her.
Edward raised his eyebrows as the boy walked inside without being invited. I watched as Swan's face was void of all emotion, before she decided to lift herself off of the floor and went to stand by the boy. He didn't even look at her. His focus wasn't on her, or McCarty, or me(which it should be), it was on Edward. He stared at Edward with an odd look in his eye, and Edward returned that stare. Finally, the boy reached his hand out to Edward.
"Jacob Black." He said. Edward stared at Jacob's face as he reached his hand out, and numbly shook it.
"Edward Cullen." He answered, tightening his grip as they shook hands. But neither let go. They held onto each other's hand, squeezing, testing the strength of each other, I suppose. I rolled my eyes.
Finally, after a moment that seemed to drag on forever, they both finally let go.
No one in the room had anything to say. I was too uncaring to through my input in there, and McCarty was nervously scratching the back of his head. Swan still had that blank expression on her face, and Edward and Jacob were scrutinizing each other with their eyes.
"There's ten gay babies." I muttered to myself, thinking of the expression 'For every awkward silence a gay baby is born'. Just at that moment, Esme walked into the living room, brandishing an apron and a warm smile. It made me sick.
"Oh, hello," she said to Jacob. Jacob, breaking away from his previous stare with Edward, turned to smile warmly at her. I wanted to throw up. "Will you be staying for dinner?" Esmeasked.
"No, thank you. Actually, I just came by to see if it was alright if I could take Bella out. There's a party at my place." He spoke every word with such kindness that everyone melted right into his words. Swan's head snapped over to look at Esme.
"Oh well, of course, Jacob."
A disgusted look crossed my face. She is going to a party? This is social suicide. This is social suicide for me. Everything is out of order.
"UGHH!" I screamed, jumping up from the couch into a standing position, narrowing my eyes dangerously at Swan. She frowned at me as everyone looked at me, not really surprised, except for Jacob.
"What's wrong now, Hale?" McCarty asked, exasperated.
"EVERYTHING!" I exploded. "THIS IS ALL SO FUCKED UP! IT SHOULDN'T BE LIKE THIS! WHERE IS THE SOCIAL ORDER! I SHOULDN'T BE HERE!" I screamed my way out of the house, opening the front door and slamming it behind me as I walked down the steps with my high heels clicking. I fumed as I walked out to my car, at least thankful that I kept spare clothes in my car. I was leaving, but unfortunately, I would be coming back.
Sat in the front seat of my BMW and started quickly changing into more revealing clothes. It was difficult changing in such a compact space, but I was use to it by now. It was my job. It was my life. After I changed, I took out my keys and stuck them in the ignition. The purr of my car calmed me a bit as I pulled out of the Cullen drive and headed to downtown Port Angeles.
When I arrived in the bad part of town, I pulled my car off to a side street to park. I pulled down the mirror and looked at my face. I definitely needed more make up. I reached into my purse and pulled out lipstick and started gliding it across my lips, when a memory faded to the forefront of my mind...
My bubbly child laughter filled the house as I ran around, waving my new prize that I had claimed in the air as my blonde curls bounced around wildly. I was Four, and I had never been so pleased to discover lip stick for the first time.
"Rosalie Lillian Hale!" My mother shrieked, ceasing me in my tracks. My eyes grew wide and my hand fell to my side, still grasping the tube of lipstick. I was in deep trouble now. My mom walked over to me, hands on hips, and got down to my level. "You know that's not your shade!" she tsked.
Blinking, I took in what she said, and erupted into giggles and launched myself into her arms. She tickled me and I squealed. "Stop Mommy! DADDY HELPPPP!"
"Sorry Kiddo, I'm not getting in the middle of that." My dad laughed from the couch. She finally stopped tickling me, and I was able to catch my breath.
"Then what is my shade, Mommy?" I looked up at her with my big blue eyes. Smiling, she got up and lifted me up, positioning me against her hip as she walked down the hallway and into her gigantic bathroom where I had snuck in and taken the lipstick from. I was never allowed in here.
"Well, definitely not peach." She said the word with such disgust that I giggled. "You're more radiant than that plain color." She placed me sitting on top of the counter. I watched as she started filing through her bag of make up and started pulling things out and applying them, things that I to come learned were eye liner, eye shadow, mascara, blush…oh, the many types of make-up were fascinating to me.
Finally, when she was done playing dress up with me, she pulled out a small, long, dark tube. It was black, and shiny, and everything good. Because that's what lipstick was. It was everything a girl ever wanted. At least, I did.
"You, my beautiful, darling daughter, are a deep red. Blood red." She said, before applying the lipstick.
I was a red.
"All red!" I giggled.
"All red." She agreed, smiling.
I stared down at the tube of lip stick in my shaking hand. That was the best memory I had of my child hood. But it was tainted. It was tainted by the future, of what had corrupted it and turned that lipstick from the joy of my child hood to my worst nightmare...
I was eleven. I was sitting in my room, reading a magazine, when my mom walked into the room. My father had left a couple of days ago, and she had been in such a depressed state that she had barely left her room. You can say I was pretty shocked to see her walking into my room. But the look on her face was what was disturbing. It was worse than the heartbroken look she had held since he left. It was void of all emotion, like she was lifeless. For one of the first times, ever, she wasn't wearing any make-up. She was wearing sweatpants. Her hair was in a sloppy pony tail. I sat up straight and asked, "What's wrong?" but in my heart, I knew the real question was, what's right?
"Wanna play dress up, honey?" she asked in a tiny voice, and I immediately started jumping up and down in my spot. I always loved playing dress up with my mom. It was an annual thing we did for bonding. But she didn't seem as happy this time.
"Sure, Mom!" I jumped out of my bed and ran into her large bathroom. She followed after and I jumped up on the counter, and closed my eyes as she started applying make-up, and I relaxed into her soft, comforting touch as she gently, slowly, glided the brush through my hair. I had a deep pit in my stomach at the thought of her behavior, but I knew in the end, it would all be okay, because I felt safe with my mom. She was the strongest person I knew. She was my rock. She protected me from the bad. She was all I had left.
"Baby, you know I love you, right?" she whispered as she continued to glide the brush through my golden curls.
"Of course, Mommy!" I said, using the name I use to call her when I was little. She didn't react how she usually would. She didn't smile. She didn't laugh. If anything, her expression grew sadder.
Last but not least, she took out the shiny, black tube of lipstick, and twisted the bottom until a perfect stick of red appeared. I puckered my lips and she lightly applied it. I smacked my lips together, and repeated what we always said.
"All Red!"
But this time, my mother did not smile. She did not laugh. She did not reply, 'All Red'. Instead, she turned around and grabbed a bag, pulling out some fancy looking clothes.
"Here, Baby, put these on." They were pretty looking clothes. In complete awe and sadness, I took the clothes and quickly put them on. Before I could so much as twirl around, she grabbed a hold of my hand and pulled me out of the house, and to the car. She sat me in the passenger seat and got in the driver's side, and pulled away from our house.
"Where are we going, Mommy?" I continued to use the nickname, hoping to finally get a smile out of her. But with each repeating of it her face grew more and more sour.
"We're going somewhere fun, honey." Was all she said, in a dead voice.
Finally, we pulled up to an old, trashy looking house.
She got out of her seat and came around to my side, pulling me out and holding me by my hand as we walked towards the house, my golden curls bouncing. I gripped her hand tighter as a sense of fear swelled in me. I was scared.
Upon reaching the door step, the front door opened and a man came out, he looked to be in his late 30's. He was large and muscle-y, and he looked at me with a strange look in his eyes. He waited expectantly. My mom bent down in front of me, looking me in the eye.
"Honey, you're going to go with the nice man, okay? Do as he says. I'll be back later, baby." Was all she said, before she handed me over to the man, and walked away, and as she walked away, my real mother walked away forever, and came back a drug addict.
The man pulled on my hand and yanked me inside, and pressed me against the wall.
"What are you doing?" I screamed. He didn't answer, only pressed against me harder, and started ripping my clothes off. "No! STOP! PLEASE STOP!" I screamed as he began hurting me. I was scared. I was alone. My mother had left me, my rock, my savior, just gave me up. She gave up on me. My mother sold me.
The shiny, black tube of lipstick no longer looked so beautiful.