She always got the things I wanted. |
They had been together for less than a year, about ten months. She wasn't even as old as me: she had barely left school. And yet the ring set her apart from the rest of us far better than any amount of years could have done. All the others gathered round cooing with joy, admiring the flashing emeralds set in the thick gold band. They could all afford to be gracious; it would be their turns soon and they would get the same treatment. It wasn't fair. What did she have that made her so special? Nothing, nothing at all. I had known him since we were children; we had grown up knowing that we would spend the rest of our lives together. Was it only me that felt that bond had been broken? Did no one else remember our settled, accepted future? I smoothed down my new dress, which I'd thought was so beautiful when I'd bought it. It matched my eyes, the woman in the shop had told me. Stupid woman, the dress was blue and my eyes are green. The cords didn't look sleek and strokable any more. They looked lumpy and ugly compared to the elegance of the pink silky skirt and white frilly blouse she was wearing. It isn't FAIR, I wanted to scream at them, but I didn't quite dare. I've never been able to let out my feelings, my opinions. And no one would listen to me anyway. There's no one who cares if I shout. So I didn't scream. Instead, I joined the admiring throng and cooed with the best of them. The excited chatter about dresses, houses, parties, made me feel sick. A lump had risen in my throat and settled at the top of my chest, and it hurt so much I wanted to cry. Better than that, I wanted to beat her into a pulp and take what had always been promised to me. She had no right, with her chesnut brown curls and sparkling chocolatey eyes, to swan into a quiet backwater village and overshadow sallow girls with mousy brown frizz and dull green eyes. She was no better than me, surely? They say it's what's inside that counts and there was nothing inside her except fakeness and plastic. I had never looked ugly until she came, I was one of the prettiest girls in our group. Or so he'd told me, when we whispered together and planned our future. She had no right to break an old agreement and ruin a life. Two lives. Except that his life wasn't ruined. He was happy, and that was what hurt most of all. That he could be happy when I was so... so... When my life was smashed into tiny pieces. How did he dare? And how did she? The emeralds flashed in the sunbeams streaming through the window of the hall. We could all hear the sound of the car engine as it pulled up outside. She squealed, a fake squeal of girlish delight, and ran to the door as he came in through it. He didn't even look at me. So much for childhood sweethearts. I hated him, I hated her, and I hated myself. I would always be alone now. |