Atelophobia

Twelve years later Andrea was backstage with her eyes shut tightly as a woman tugged on her dark hair. “God damnit girl, what’d you do to your hair?”

Aunt Carol thought it would have been lovely to French braid her hair the night before so when she woke up Andrea’s hair would be in soft curls. Aunt Carol was wrong.

Andrea stayed quiet, she knew better than to talk back, after living with her aunt for twelve years she learned the proper pageant etiquette. Her stomach growled loudly, it made her look down at it in desperation as if to say, ‘hush it, you’ll get me in trouble!’ Aunt Carol looked down at Andrea with a perfectly waxed eyebrow raised, “Hon, are you hungry?”

She shook her head, no she wasn’t hungry, no her scalp wasn’t throbbing, the dress she was supposed to wear wasn’t too sparkly, she wasn’t exhausted beyond belief, Andrea was perfectly fine. Everything was fine. Everything was perfect.

“You sure?”

Andrea nodded her head and opened her eyes, the stylist had finally finished tugging on her hair and brought out the straightener, “We’re gonna have to straighten it, then re-curl it. Should take about forty minutes.”

Checking her watch, Aunt Carol tapped her pointed heel impatiently, “We’ve only got forty minutes and she’s still gotta get the dress and make up on.”

“Well,” the stylist sighed, “We could just skip the curling, it should be fine.”

Time seemed to fly by in a large gust of wind. One woman worked on applying too much foundation while another worked on her eyes. Immediately after that she had to shimmy into a white gown with feathers and glitter all over it. Her Aunt had some person make it to fit her perfectly. She had a normal bust and a tiny waist, Andrea was “blessed” with the perfect hourglass body. If blessed meant working out for hours every day and skipping a meal or two often, then yes, she was very blessed.

All the girls got into a line, “Show time!” Someone whispered, pushing them out from behind the curtain and onto the stage.

One girl stumbled, Andrea didn’t stumble, she never stumbled, she stumbled once when she was seven; that never happened again. Her smile was bright, hands on her hips as she walked down the aisle and did a small pose, then turn back around and stood in line in the same pose. The lights were too bright, she couldn’t see her Aunt but she could feel everyone's eyes as they criticized her every detail. Andrea could see the judges. She smiled at the male judge when no one was looking and winked at him flirtatiously, he was older than her Uncle and it made her want to puke. She quickly turned back to the audience and beamed, she looked so happy. She looked as happy as her cousin did twelve years ago. Did her cousin ever feel this way?

Andrea was scared, she was always scared. Aunt Carol was harsh with her, worse than the normal guardian should have been. Things always had to be perfect even down to her little toes. Every thing was perfect, the people she spent her time with, her grades, her looks, there wasn’t a single flaw anyone could find. Well, maybe Andrea wasn’t tall enough, something Aunt Carol constantly reminded her of, so she always wore heels. She wasn’t allowed to go to a friend's party without supervision, she had to work out every day, and sugary sweets were not allowed, same with greasy foods.

When she was younger Andrea loved sweets, she’d always try to sneak a chocolate here and there, Aunt Carol found out and smacked her with a wooden spoon that had holes in it, but not in a place that the judges could see. Could you imagine that? A young eight year old strutting her stuff down the catwalk with a large bruise on her bum? Unacceptable! Forget calling Child Services, no amount of spray tanning would cover that, goodbye Little Miss Clean South.

Don’t get Aunt Carol wrong, she loved her niece with all of her heart, she was just doing what was best for her. Once Andrea got older she’d understand. I mean come on she was starting to get chunky. No worries, that was fixed quick and they won second place. Had Andrea ever asked to stop? No, of course not, pageants made people happy, they wouldn’t be smiling like that if they weren’t. Andrea just hadn’t gotten there yet, she was close, but she wasn’t at the peak of happiness.



“When have you been very proud of yourself in your life?”

Andrea smiled and batted her faux lashes, “As much as I’d like to say winning my first pageant, I’d have to say it was when I sang my first solo in Choir. Music is a passion of mine and to sing of my love for the Lord in front of everyone was an amazing experience.”

“If you don't win, whom would you like to see winning and why?"

This question was a trap, God damnit. She wasn’t able to spare a glance back at Aunt Carol, that would only show a sign of weakness, she couldn’t risk it, “I think these are are all amazing girls and if anyone of them won I wouldn’t be upset in the slightest. I can’t pick a certain girl because they’re all amazing and I’m honored to be competing with them.”

"What or who motivates you, and why?"

Bingo, this one was easy.

Andrea took a deep breath and smiled charmingly, her hands were folded neatly in front of her, “I’d have to say my Aunt Carol motivates me. She’s an amazing woman that inspires me in so many different ways, spiritually, musically, emotionally, I couldn’t imagine my life without her. She took me in when no one else would and loved me when no one did.” She took a deep breath and laughed nervously, wiping away a small tear. “Sorry,” she said with another small laugh. The judges awed, Aunt Carol sat in her seat with a large smirk on her face. She aced the questions.



Andrea smiled graciously and fluttered her lashes as she walked down the aisle, a solid black one piece adorned her body, she would have worn the white two piece Aunt Carol had bought her but recently she’d been having some issues. The pieces were too big, it was ridiculous! She had a naturally curvy figure, but she’d been getting worse as of lately. Andrea wasn’t able to eat, the times she was allowed to I mean, her sleeping habits were all over the place. Andrea would have nightmares about the pageants. In most of them she’d be obese and booed off stage, in others she’d fall on stage and crack her skull open, most were gorey, others were just terrifying. She was never looking at people, they were all creatures scrutinizing her under a large magnifying lens. Many nights she had woken up in a cold sweat, tears pouring down her face. Her cousin would come in to check on her. The once bright and happy girl gained weight and dyed her hair but she was still smiling.

The heels didn’t seem to fit right, it made Andrea’s palms sweat. What if she tripped? The thought made her breath hitch in her throat. The lights were too bright, she could barely see where the aisle ended. What if she fell over? Looking up, all Andrea could see were demons. The creatures from her dream.

She stopped walking but quickly posed, she turned and walked quickly backstage. She ran over to one of the make up tables and tried her best not to cry. She could hear her Aunt’s voice in her head whispering and yelling. It was getting louder and louder. All the noise backstage was being block out and all that surrounded her were voices screaming at her.

"FAILURE!"

"CUNT!"

"GET BACK OUT THERE!"

A hand rested on her shoulder, Andrea jumped and almost screamed.

Big blue eyes bore into her brown ones, her cousin Dallas smiled sympathetically and wrapped her arms around the tiny girl. Andrea started sobbing, ruining the very expensive make-up they had spent an hour on. She held on tightly to her cousin, “I can’t fucking do it,” she whispered. Andrea’s whole body as shaking, some girls backstage stared at her with wonder, what the Hell was going on?

“I know,” Dallas said in a clear voice, “And you don’t have to.”

“No, I do,” Andrea whimpered. “I need to be perfect, I have to beautiful, I can’t fuck up.”

Dallas tried to search Andrea’s dark eyes, “Why? Why can’t you quit?” She had gone through something like this, she had done whatever her mother told her to so she could also be perfect. Flaws were unacceptable in her world, then one day she had said enough. She got kicked out of her home for two months before her dad had asked her to move back in with them. Dallas watched silently as Andrea went through the same thing, but she was different. Something about Andrea was much more severe then Dallas’ want to leave.

“I can’t ever fail,” she sniffled, Andrea’s make-up was running down her thing face, “I have these nightmares about it. They can’t come true, I won’t let them. I-I…” She felt her hands shaking, Andrea could picture her Aunt’s face screaming and yelling at her. In her mind she could picture the veins popping out of the woman's neck. Her nails would grow into these long claws and dig into her shoulders. Every time Andrea would tried to get away they would dig in deeper. "Stop," she cried, "Please let me go." The once familiar face of her aunt morphed into one of horror. It was like those demons she always heard about in church.

Faster than she knew possible there were people surrounding her; asking her questions and shaking her.

“I feel dizzy,” she muttered.

The room was spinning, when as the last time she ate? Andrea’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as she fell to the floor and passed out.