Pretty Poison

Thirty - Two

A faint knock pounded on the door fifteen minutes past the hour, my stomach knotted and my nauseousness worsened. An elderly woman stood in the door frame and kindly handed me a dress enclosed in an opaque bag.

"For you, madam," she said, then walked down the hall.

I took it from her and sat on the bed, in the exact same spot where I sit now, not moving for the past thirty minutes. I stare forward at the TV in front of me, my mind completely gone and wandering far off somewhere in space. Everything else seemed to fade away, my surroundings completely blurred. My stomach feels bottomless, a never ending wave of sickness wavering over me like a quiet breeze.

Ten more minutes passed until a voice told me to get up, to stop sulking.

You've spent your entire life hiding, you deserve to have fun, too, just like everyone else. Get up.

I tuck the opaque bag under my arm as I stand, the bag crinkling under my movements. Opening the bathroom door, I hang the bag on a hook and unzip the front. There, hanging neatly is a sunflower yellow party dress, its fabric velvet and sparkly under the iridescent light. I grin to myself remembering that this is his favorite color, knowing full well that's why he chose it.

The time reached closer and closer to six, the time seemingly speeding up like a time lapse. The shower relieved all my thoughts, the harsh memories washed down the drain alongside the hot water.

I decide to curl my hair, finding an iron that has never been used and plugging it into the wall. I take it slow, recalling how it's properly done from things I've seen in magazines and salons. I feel the heat as I place it close to my head, holding it there for ten seconds, then dropping it to reveal a perfect curl. I do this, over and over again until every last strand is curled. I run a brush through it, the tight curls becoming looser and flowing like perfect river waves down my back.

I only apply mascara, not having enough time to mess with anything else. The last step is the dress. I turn away from the mirror to the dress hanging behind me. My hands involuntarily run down the front, the fabric silky smooth and soft. I take it off the hanger and place it over my head, the dress tight fitting and sliding perfectly down my figure.

I peer in the mirror at myself, damn, I thought, you look good.

My self confidence peaks, not feeling guilty anymore for looking too long in the mirror, embracing my image for what it is. I take one last look at the clock and at that, decide it's time to go.

***

The foyer is empty, not a single soul in sight. I had half expected to see Luca standing there waiting, but he wasn't. I peer around, searching every which way for anyone, then someone comes into view.

"He's outside, Signorina," a tanned woman comes into view and gestures to the grand front doors.

"Oh, thank you," I warmly smile, and she bows her head, returning to whatever she was doing behind the pillar.

I open the front door and instantly meet his gaze. He leans against his midnight black Ferrari, the body coated in glistening paint under the setting sun. His tuxedo jacket is buttoned in the front, a clean white shirt below it with a bow tie wrapped around his neck. We just stand there for what feels like hours, staring at each other with no end.

"That color looks absolutely stunning on you," Luca eyes me up and down two and three times, admiring the ruffles that shape my breasts and hips.

I blush a little, "Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself."

He grins, "Thanks," he replies, kicking himself off the car to stride towards me.

I wobble in my heels a little as I meet him halfway. He pulls something out of his back pocket: two masks that cover the eyes and nose.

He gives one to me and I scrutinize the mask, the black fabric bedazzled with sequins around the eyes. Gold feathers sprout from the top, accented with sparkling black spines. His was completely black, no detail or flashy aspect to it.

"You ready to go?"

"Yep!" He holds open the door for me, helping me step inside the lowered interior of the luxury car.

The interior was just as impressive as the exterior. Everything was made up of polished black wood with thick leather seats. Red finishes sealed the dashboard, the crimson a sexy addition to the overall attractive space. He steps in a moment later and within seconds, he drives off.