December Comes After November

I pulled the starch white dress, elegant satin bow tied around the back, lace covering the cuffs of the short sleeves, tiny designs embroidered along the hem, which reached down right below my ankles, covering my tight clad legs up over my small frame in preparation for my school’s annual dance. Underneath it was hidden a sleeveless black dress, which barely just touched my knees. My straight brown hair was pulled back into a bun, placed neatly on top of my head by my mother. Around my neck hung a golden chain; at the very end was a small pendent in the shape of a bird, the symbol I was given when I was born, accented with little studs. Sliding my small feet into the clear glass one inch heels my mother had bought for me the night before, I grabbed my bag, stuffing in it an electric blue piece of ribbon in it, and opened my door slowly.
As I walked down the stairs, my feet almost silent against the plush carpeting, I heard my mother let out a squeal while my father muttered his usual ‘you like nice.’
“Oh!” My mother gasped, “Charlotte! You look stunning!”
She rushed around me in hurried little circles, primping here and there, fluffing this and that. When she was satisfied with her work, she took my pale hand, pink painted nails and all, and, waving goodbye to my father, her husband, led me out to the small car.
As she pushed the key into the car, making it come to life quietly, she asked, “Charlotte, will Arthur be there tonight?”
I held back from cringing at the sound of his name. Arthur was the boy my parents wanted me to marry; captain of the football team, honor roll, straight A student, and volunteering at the Community Center in our town, Arthur was my parents dream. My parents. Not, repeat, not mine. Though he was polite to adults, he was a snobby, lying, stuck up, little jerk to me and everyone else who wasn’t in his “crowd.”
My mother smoothed the hair on top of my head one more time as we pulled into the long driveway that lead to my school, decorated with balloons and streamers, light shining through the frosted glass window’s, music almost could be heard. My heart sped a to a million miles an hour as I climbed out of the passenger side seat and, watching my mom pull out, making sure she was gone from the property, out of sight out of mind, I stripped of my white dress. Carefully, I folded, and tucked it behind a thorn covered rose bush, somewhere no one would ever reach for fear of getting cut. I pulled the small rubber band holding my hair in place out and, giving my head a shake to bring my hair down naturally, slipped the electric blue ribbon over my head as a makeshift headband.
Taking a last deep breath, I pulled a tissue out of my bag, whipped off the makeup my mother had so carefully down a few hours ago, tossed the bag behind my shoulder, and stepped inside the building. Shocked gasps came from all around me, my attire not being completely…acceptable, to put it lightly, in my society. A few boys whistled at me like I was a piece of meat; girls sneered and clung closer to their boyfriends, like I was going to hurt them, but I had eyes only for him. Ignoring the stares and hoots, I continued to make my way through the crowded gym where the dance was held, getting shoved only a few times by a few football players and, undoubtedly, Arthur.
I was suddenly blind sighted and a sweet voice whispered in my teenaged ear, “Charlieeeeeeeeee.”
‘Jameson,’ my heart skipped a beat as I whirled around to face him.
His lips immediately met mine, earning looks of disgust from the crowd, while I wrapped my arms in his.
“Charliee, I’m so glad you came, I knew you would.”
James pulled me around in wild dance moves, completely out of rhythm with the slow beat playing on the old fashioned record player, but not caring how out of place we looked; pure bliss. I felt an icy hand on my shoulder, ripping me brutally from my trance.
“Loser!” Someone screamed out from the crowd around us, which was currently staring like we were all four headed space monsters.
James lifted his middle finger, unbothered by whoever had spoken.
“Charlotte! Jameson! Stop it!” She pushed our touching bodies apart.
My face read out plain and clear: guilt, though James, ever confident, had a smug smile painted on his face as he told the teacher/chaperone something I can’t repeat. He brought my body, still frozen with shock, back to his and turned his back on the angrily glaring teacher.
Once more her hand touched my bare shoulder, “Charlotte!” Her eyes swept down me as though she had just noticed my attire for the first time, “you.. you should go change.”
James took my hand, leading me out of the overly decorated gym and out east. A flash of relief flared around me as soon as I was free of the perpetrating eye I had felt inside.I didn’t bother to ask him where we were going, nor did I care.
His warm hand was cupped around mine as we wandered together down the late night streets. The comfortable silence surrounded us from every directions, street lights mostly out. The midnight moon passed in and out of the clouds as we reached the small beach on the edge of our town. There was a small train station, and a few empty lifeguard chairs, empty only because we were out way past the time the beach was supposed to be closed.
I glanced at the huge clock on the tower sitting in the center of town.
“Its almost past curfew…I should go home,” I said, regretting each word that came out of my mouth.
Quickly he brought us closer together, his hands on my face. The moon passed behind a cloud, the stars provided just enough light for us to see each other.
“Run away with me,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling my cheeks.
I was to shocked to say anything. Running away would mean I’d never see my mom…or my dad…nothing. But it would also mean I’d never have to leave James again; every morning I would wake up to him.
My breath caught in my throat as we were illuminated in a bright car’s headlight. James pulled on my hand, already breaking into a run. I cursed my short legs and constraining dress, struggling already to keep up with him. I felt my shoes slip off the backs of my feet, getting lost in the sands; But it was impossible to outrun a car, especially one with an angry father behind the wheel.
“Charlotte!” My father gasped, my mother crying beside him in the passenger seat, “get in the car NOW!” His voice turned to a roar.
“Meet me back here in an hour,” James whispered, just loud enough for me to hear, ”if you want to come.”
I nodded slightly, hopping my parents wouldn’t notice. My fathers lips were pressed into an angry line as I released James’ hand and climbed silently in the backseat.
“Charlotte! How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want you around that boy! He’s bad news!”
My father ranted on and on, I’m sure, but my mind was to busy to listen. Staying here would mean I would undoubtedly end up another one of them: doing exactly what I was told without question, letting them think for me, believing everything I heard. James was my one ticket to freedom, without him I was stuck, without him, I wasn’t me.
Not wanting to end up another useless droid, I nodded, going through with my flawless performance of shame as my parents pulled up to the house and immediately sent me to my room.
“Yes, father, I’m sorry father,” I said, bowing my head in a sign of respect.
I walked slowly up the stairs, then, as soon as I left my parents view, dashed to my room and began pulling off the dress, throwing on my shorts and a tee shirt I yanked hastily out of my closet; I looked down at myself, making sure my clothes were dark. Grabbing my school bag, I tossed my books out and threw randomly selected articles of clothes into it and my life savings.
With nothing else left to do, I slipped into black, almost invisible in the night, ballet flats, easy for running, and walked, making my steps silent, down the hall to take a last glance at my parents. Tears slid down my cheeks as I saw them sitting by our old fire place, warm fire burning inside, reading books, making occasional small talk. Memories of my childhood forced there way into my head, making everything more painful.
I turned my back on the scene and returned to my room, slipping out the window before I could change my mind. Blinded by the tears, I ran, not stopping once, all the way to the beach until I stumbled right into James’s arms. He wrapped them around me in understanding.
“I promise,” his whisper was loving as the train chugged soundlessly into the station, “its worth it.”
Grabbing his hand, I nodded, somehow trusting him fully, and leaped onto the train.