THE ROOM WAS vibrant in golden shimmering colors, I was dressed head to toe in black and gold and when I looked at my reflection through the glass window I could barely recognize myself. I was stunning. I had long thick lashes and lightly blushed cheeks, my hair cascading down my shoulders in beachy waves. When my eyes glued to the dress I was stuffed with awe and amazement that I was wearing something so beautiful.
The dress was a dark matte black trimmed with lace in floral patterns. It was long and went far past my.. heels. I was wearing shiny black heels with gold trimming and I couldn't close my mouth at the sight. Everything was so serene and beautiful. I pulled my hand up to gently touch my face, caressing some of it, to test if it was real.
"You ready to go?" The voice was warped and monotone but for some reason I didn't get scared by it. When I spun around is when I found myself in horror. The presumed 'date' was dressed in all black and his skin was matte and his eyes were pitched black, white lines drawing all over him. He wasn't normal, something was serverly wrong, "What's wrong Marie? You don't like the new me?"
I snapped awake and felt my heart pounding out of my chest before I slammed my fists down on the bed over and over again. I constantly had that same dream. It never changed, only small aspects like paintings in the room or jewerly I was wearing, but the guy, he never changed. It was like he was wearing a suit—but the suit was a jet black and practically attached to his skin. It gave me chills everytime I thought about it.
"Marie are you up?" I heard a familiar voice call before seeing my overly annoying and pestering foster mother come in with a big smile, "Oh good! You have to start getting up early because you have—"
"Senior year next week I know." I finished her sentence. The amount of times she'd said that for the past few months was unbearable and I just wanted it to be next week already so I could never hear that phrase again. I pulled myself off the side of the bed, looking down at my sweats and shrugging, deciding that it was a Friday so I wasn't really going to be going anywhere. I pulled my messy hair up into a bun and slumped down the steps trying to take as long as possible before the dog, Chewy, slammed into the back of my leg and made me fall directly onto my ass.
I cried out in pain as my ass bone connected with the edge of one of the stairs and I groaned intensely.
"God! Chewy you're so annoying!" I shouted.
"Hey! Don't go blaming Chewy for being excited." I heard my fake mother scold me and since she couldn't see me I rolled my eyes. I wasn't normally so cruel or angry—but I knew for sure that I wasn't a morning person. Especially when my mornings no longer consisted of my father, my real father, singing in the kitchen while he made food and waking me up to the smell of eggs in the morning. I didn't despise Julio and Sarah, they were doing a good thing, fostering—but they weren't good at their job. And I most certaintly didn't want to adopt a 'new' family.
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