I am soooo not going to finish Nano. I have 13k. I'm 37k from finishing... as much as I wish I could, I will not be able to pull that out of my top hat, which is a real shame.
My internet crashed on me the other night.... eh. It's - obviously - better now but still.... ehh.
Hope you've all had a nice weekend and here's another snip because it's monday....
(Continuing from last snip)
With a sigh, I walked up the stairs, dragging my case behind me. I don’t blame my father for being angry. Six years was a long time to not visit and I do feel terrible. It’s not that I never tried to visit, it was just every time I had tried I would just… stop. The though alone of being here… didn’t really matter any more. I was here.
I stood in the doorway of my old bedroom. It was still white, except for the curtains, carpet and bedding which had always been purple. Nothing had changed within it, well, it looked tidier. I was not the tidiest person, so my mother had obviously tided up. My vanity table that sat just next to the window over looking the sea would be covered with jewellery and products. My sowing machine in the corner facing my bedroom door would have half made dresses covering the desk. Instead, all my old material and threads were packed away in boxes beneath the table and a vase of fresh flowers sat in the windowsill. I felt my lips pull into a smile as a comforting familiarity settled in me.
I shut the bedroom door, hanging the four heavy dress bags on the hook. I pulled my suitcase into the room and placed it in front of the bed, there was no point in unpacking the two spare outfits I had brought with me because I wouldn’t be staying longer than expected. I skimmed my finger over the wood of my old vanity table. Memories of getting ready in front of the mirror began to dance in my mind. I glanced out at our back garden, at the moon shining upon the distant ocean, turning the water silver. I inhaled the scent of the fresh flowers my mother had placed on the windowsill. Standing here made me feel like I had never left in the first place and the thought scared me.
I walked to my wardrobe and opened the door. My heart jumped to my throat. Among a few old tops and a pair of jeans sat a familiar black hanging bag. I reached in and pulled the bag out. My hands trembled as I slid the zip down, I could already see the detailed lace bodice peeking through the small gap. I didn’t expect my mother to throw it out but why did she have to put it in here? I reached inside and pulled the dress out, watching as the white silk skirt dropped, the train forming a puddle on the floor.
My wedding dress. The one I designed, spent four days making, and never wore.
It was a simple design, elegant to look at. All the detail lay in the black lace that covered the firm white bodice, the intricate swirls, which seemed to climb up like ivy. I walked over to the mirror of my vanity table and held the dress up to my chin. How many times had I done this? At least once a day for two months, I think. My hands stretched across the material, pressing it close as I studied it. The girl in the mirror was crying. Confusion stretched across her face, the weight of a spontaneous decision had arisen and what she was about to do hurt her more then anyone else would ever know… but why was she doing it? Why had everything suddenly gone so wrong, so quickly?
I placed the dress carefully back inside the bag and then hung it back in the wardrobe. Letting my fingers brush against the lace once more as I inhaled deeply and calmed myself down. I could do this. I just needed to concentrate on Jess, on helping her and being here for her. I could ignore my fathers jabs and dodge every body else. Simple.
I zipped up the bag and took one more deep breath. “Two days,” I reminded myself as I shut the wardrobe door.
Stepping Stones by Elizabeth Morgan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.