Beautiful Disaster
The Week That Went By
Isabella sat in front of a large mirror, wearing a beautiful pink dress. It had puffed sleeves. The top made a deep "U" shape, and the skirt was full. Everywhere were tiny white crystal beads. Her hair was pinned up expertly, with tendrils strategically pulled out and elegantly curled. It shone against the dim lights. Her lips were bright red and her eyelids were a soft pink. Her lashes were thick with smooth mascara, eyebrows perfectly plucked, cheeks pink, and skin flawless and sparkling with a alight touch of body glitter. A white diamond tiara shone on her head. She was dripping with jewels and radiating beauty. She had never felt or looked more beautiful. This was the peak of her beauty. But there was no purpose for it.
Today was her fifteenth birthday. She was supposed to have a Quinceanera, but there was no one to throw it for her. Her father was still in some other country. Mrs. Hatchett wouldn't do it for her.
She looked at what was in her hand. A bracelet. A diamod bracelet, sent by her father. Just a simple chain made of tiny diamonds.
It meant the world to her.
She was aching to have a Quinceanera. She had gone to various stores and bought the outfit.
And now she was sitting in front of the mirror, looking at how beautiful she was in the dress. With nothing to celebrate. She missed her father terribly. But she didn't cry. If she did, it would mess up her makeup.
Isabella lay down in bed, staring at the prom outfit her father had sent her. The dress. The shoes.Dark green shiny strappy heels. The jewelery. Earrings. A ring. A tiara. A necklace. Everything but a bracelet. All silver and diamonds.
It was all laid out on the bed. Where it would stay until the prom.
She had gone shopping for the rest yesterday. The mask,the nails, the makeup.
And she would be as beautiful as she was on her lonely Quinceanera when she met her father again.
She lay on the floor and stared at the picture in the locket for the rest of the night.
Today was her fifteenth birthday. She was supposed to have a Quinceanera, but there was no one to throw it for her. Her father was still in some other country. Mrs. Hatchett wouldn't do it for her.
She looked at what was in her hand. A bracelet. A diamod bracelet, sent by her father. Just a simple chain made of tiny diamonds.
It meant the world to her.
She was aching to have a Quinceanera. She had gone to various stores and bought the outfit.
And now she was sitting in front of the mirror, looking at how beautiful she was in the dress. With nothing to celebrate. She missed her father terribly. But she didn't cry. If she did, it would mess up her makeup.
Isabella lay down in bed, staring at the prom outfit her father had sent her. The dress. The shoes.Dark green shiny strappy heels. The jewelery. Earrings. A ring. A tiara. A necklace. Everything but a bracelet. All silver and diamonds.
It was all laid out on the bed. Where it would stay until the prom.
She had gone shopping for the rest yesterday. The mask,the nails, the makeup.
And she would be as beautiful as she was on her lonely Quinceanera when she met her father again.
She lay on the floor and stared at the picture in the locket for the rest of the night.