Amery & Caddel

Prologue

Enjoy babycakes<3



December 21, 2008

My mother never fails to remind me that I'm not pretty. She'd say my eye bags are too dark, that my skin is too pale, that my teeth are not straight, and that my hair is not shiny enough. 

It was constant. 

When I was six years old, her words hurt me, but now I'm eight years old, and my Mother's mean words remain mean, but they don't make me any sadder, thanks to Rosa. 

Rosa is my best friend, and she always calls me pretty while she brushes my tangly hair.  

Today, my Mother said my nails weren't long enough, but I keep them short because I can't play piano with long nails. It probably doesn't help either that when I get nervous, I pick at my nails, which is probably too often. 

Mother believes it's a nervous tick that I eventually will grow out of, but she is wrong to believe that I will ever let my nails grow long.

Sitting on my bed in my pink bedroom, I watch the sparkly silver dress hanging in my closet across the room. Mother picked this dress for me, and I hate it. Almost as much as I hate the pink walls.   

"Mayella, stop staring at the dress and put it on, please; we have to leave soon." My Mother says as she walks over to a vanity mirror while clipping the back of her earring. She wears a deep red dress that is long enough to cover her feet, yet she still wears the highest heels. 

I jump off my bed and walk to my closet, reaching for the itchy dress material and sliding the dress over my head. I go back to my bed and pull on white ruffle socks Mother also picked out. I look across the room to the black ballet flats that wait at my bedroom door for me to wear, but I don't move to put them on, I stare at them.

I think of my Mother last week walking through our front door after shopping with many bags in her hands, one of them being the black ballet flats.

**One week ago** 

She notices me observing her from the bottom of the stairwell and walks over, holding a little Channel box. She opens the box, a pair of black ballet slippers. 

"When I saw these, I thought you would like them, Mayella," she says with a warm smile. I went to hold the new shoes, and she was right; I did like them.

"You can wear them at your father's gala next week. I know you don't like your dress, but I hope you will like your shoes," Mother says as she winks and kisses my nose.

"Thank you," I say, grinning. 

I hug Mother and run to my room with my new shoes in my hands, very excited. I pull off my socks and put my new shoes on my feet. 

They are a little tight. 

I check the size of the shoe at the bottom. Size three. Ari is a size three, and I am a size three and a half. 

I sigh but feel too guilty to tell Mother she bought the wrong size. The shoes are not horribly small, but I know my poor feet would hurt after a couple of hours of wearing them, especially with socks. 

**present day**

"Mayella, What are you doing? Hurry up and put on your shoes, we're waiting for you." Mother pulls me out of my gaze and leaves my room to meet with the rest of my family. I quickly slip on the shoes and immediately notice how much tighter they feel with the ruffle socks, but I ignore them and hobble down the stairs.

"Wow look at you, Ella, so lovely." My Dad calls me Ella, and I like it. Ella is my nickname, but my Dad is the only one who calls me that. My Dad is very tall, and I'm very short. Mother says I am too small for my age. I look up at my Dad and squint to see his face. Recently I've noticed my vision blurring sometimes. I've told Mother, but she does not seem to believe me and thinks I'm being dramatic.