Gone | hs

1-Little Black Dress

[Jenna's POV]

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"C'mon! You just got back, we need to have some fun!" Alex complains loudly. Sure, I just got home from my second tour, but that doesn't mean go to a party and get completely wasted. I need to have some dignity.

"Clubbing in New York is not my definition of 'fun', Alex." I say in response. She holds up the skimpy little black dress she brought me and I groan.

"Especially in that." I add with distaste. She looks mildly annoyed with my anti-party essence.

"I thought dresses were supposed to be longer than my V. That is more of a shirt than anything else, c'mon Alex." I comment.

"It would cover you! C'mon, please! I've missed my bestfriend." She begs. She sticks her bottom lip out and scrunches her eyebrows together.

"Please Jenna."

I think about it. It's only one night and it would make Alex happy. What could possibly happen?

I groan quite loudly and take the dress from her hands. She claps excitedly and proceeds to pick out shoes. After a few minutes of utter silence, she hands me a pair of black heels that seem impossible to walk in.

I roll my eyes and go into the bathroom to change.

The dress is one inch away from showing my entire arse. I need to cover up, I can't possibly go out in public like this.

"Alex!" I groan as I fling open the door. She smiles at me but it slowly turns into a frown.

"What now?" I ask. She laughs and goes back into her closet. Well, thanks for answering my question.

She comes out after a few minutes of me trying to stretch the fabric and make this dress longer.

She hands me a similar dress, but this one is eight inches longer.

I roll my eyes, "Is this the longest thing you have?"

She raises her eyebrows, smirks, then replies, "It's either that one or the one you're wearing, you can choose."

Considering these things, I realize I will never get a longer dress. I won't cover up. And I will never convince Alex that this is stupid.

I dash across the room, into the bathroom. I quickly get out of that torture device and pull the new dress up my arms. It's black, like the first one, but it reaches the area right above my knees. It sparkles in the light and only has one strap holding it up which is, I might add, covered in penny-sized rhinestones. Alex's motto is go big or go home.

I go back out into her bedroom and slide the black pumps on my feet. They aren't easy to walk in, but it isn't impossible. All I need is possible.

She claps excitedly and ushers me back into the bathroom. She sets me down on the shower siding and proceeds to do my hair. It only barely reaches past my shoulders because I had to cut it a few months ago. Memories of me with long auburn hair fill my mind. I miss it. I miss it so damn much.

She turns on her curling iron and we both wait for it to warm up.

"Was it as bad as the first time?" Alex asks quietly, looking at the ground.

Her question kind've takes me off guard. But, with all confidence, I answer, "Yeah, it was."

I remember Isabelle. I remember her showing me pictures of her and her one-year-old boy. I remember her showing me pictures of her wedding day at night, when we couldn't sleep. Her long black and shiny hair was also cut extremely short. I remember the day our commander came back to me and explained that her family would attend an empty casket memorial. I remember the feeling. I couldn't save her, and I was sorry. She was too young, too innocent, and it should've been me.