Useless Dresses

“Don’t forget your mother, Katelyn, when you become rich and powerful.”

She always got a kick out of saying things like that. Every morning before school, if I’d decided to go that day, some variation of that phrase inevitably escaped her lips before I got the chance to escape.

“Don’t forget what your mother has done for you,” she would say. “Because she’s the only one who will stay when life comes crashing down on you.”

That last part she added only months before she left.

Actually, before things got very bad between us, and when I was still young and malleable, she spoke with a certain wistfulness to her tone. ”Never forget her. She loves you the most. She will never stop loving you.”

Yet she did. She did stop loving me. When my life did start to fall apart, piece by obnoxious piece, my mom was the only one who didn’t stay.

“You’re just a bunch of empty promises, Mom.”

“And I don’t even think—did you say something?” Milly turned her head to look at me. She lay with her back to the carpet, her feet propped up on my bed. She’d been entertaining herself by picking off the little stickers on my Rubik’s Cube and making random patterns in the colors.

The sun seemed more intense than usual, and though the warmth it brought coaxed most outside, I chose to stay inside and out of the snow. Milly arrived about an hour ago.

“No.”

“Oh. Well, why are you sitting in your closet anyway?”

“No reason.” I ran my fingers over rough cardboard and picked up a scissors on the other side of me. They were Emily’s, though I didn’t think she would mind me using them. As long I she never found out.

The sharp blade of the tool slid across the duct tape covering the folds of the box—enough to make me tense and edgy, but not nearly enough to cut through the material. I was just teasing myself. I had no intention of actually opening the box, I knew.

“At least turn the lights on. Geez.” Milly flipped on the closet light and sent the fluorescents screaming into my eyes.

A ripping noise split the air as I rushed my hands to my face. “Milly!”

“Oops, sorry,” Milly said, looking a little bashful for a whole two seconds. Then she smiled again and sat down beside me.

“What’s in there?” I allowed my eyes to adjust before looking back down at the old package.

“Shit!” I pushed the box to the far corner of the tiny space before covering my eyes again. “Milly, see what you made me do?”

“What?” A pause. “It’s not even all the way opened.”

“I don’t want it opened.”

“But why? What’s in it?”

I shifted myself, risking a squinted glance at Milly. I didn’t want to tell her the truth. I don’t know why—it’s not like I kept the shriveled heads of my enemies in there—but I simply wanted to keep the contents a secret. In fact, I didn’t even want to know what hid inside those cardboard walls. So I said the first thing that came to mind, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Milly asked, looking at me with skeptical eyes. “Well don’t you want to find out? My brother always told me to that if you don’t know something, it’s always better to find out than the stay ignorant. So you should open it. Because knowing gives you—”

“No, Milly, I don’t need to know what’s in there and I don’t want to open the box.” I shifted again and opening my eyes a little more. The box sat in the corner, deflated but unopened. Only a small slit on the end of the tape stood out. That was the first time Milly ever mentioned the brother she recently lost—and the mention made me all the more irritated with her.

“But why? It’s not that hard. Here, let me help.” The mousy girl spread the scissors wide like a knife and bent to slice the box open.

“No!”

“Why?” she asked and continued, and I launched myself toward her and snatched the scissors from her hand.

“Stay out of it! Will you just shut up for once and mind your own business?” I yelled, feeling heat rise up to my cheeks and nose and forehead. My fists clenched into a tight fist around the opened pair of scissors as I tried to catch some kind of breath.

“Oh.” Milly looked to the carpeted floor, then to the wall, then out of the closet into my room, then to the floor again. “Oh, ok.”

Then I noticed the moisture flashing at the corners of her round eyes, and ice flooded my veins and cooled my face. And I realized I’d been a real bitch, and that I’d never gotten so angry so quick. “Mills...Ah, Milly, I’m—”

“I’m sorry.” Milly interrupted, her sharp voice growing smaller. “I’m sorry, I was being pushy again, wasn’t I? My mom tells me I’m just a really pushy person and that’s probably the reason no one want to hang out with me, and…”

I didn’t really know what to say. Milly’s expression seemed to sink further and further as she spoke about her mom, and I just didn’t know how to respond. Milly was happy. Obnoxiously, obliviously happy. I never imagined her any other way.

And then there was that urge again, that need to know. It happened with Rich only days ago, and that confused me enough. But as Milly spoke, I wanted to know about her home life too. Her parents, her family, her hobbies outside school. And again, I didn’t know how to react to the feeling. But this time I couldn’t run away.

I was getting way too close to burning both the new bridge’s I’d struggled together.

“No, Milly, stop,” I said, trying hard to get the brunette to look at me. “Don’t apologize. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out or anything…I don’t know what came over me. It’s my fault. Just—” I reached passed her and slid the box toward me with my free hand, then dropped the scissors I’d been clutching.

“Kate.”

“Just don’t mess with this anymore. It’s personal. I don’t ever want to open it, so—”

“But Kate…”

“So just…just forget about it. Forget about everything. Where’s that Rubik’s Cube?”

“Kate, you’re bleeding.”

“What?” I glanced down, and didn’t feel the sting until I found the steady flow of blood that seeped from the palm that held the scissors. The blood flowed, stopped at the edge of my palm for a hesitant moment, and then dropped off. It landed and absorbed into the cardboard box below, growing in a dark red stain.