Feather

My brown hair was pinned up on top of my head by my mother allowing me to have a better look at myself in the dress that I had bought with Connor two days before. My mother was simply aglow, praising me for how I looked.

"White always was the perfect color on you."

I had been hearing those exact same words for as long as I could remember. Even on Halloween, my costume had had white. When I had been in Francis Lawtkins's wedding as a flower girl, the top half of my dress had been a pristine white.

White.

White.

White.

I didn't mind the color. I didn't even mind the dress. But my mind had drifted back to the dress that I had tried on per Conner's suggestion. My mother grabbed my hand, pulling my thoughts away from the other dress and down to my bright nails.

"Why in the world did you do that Kacey?" she asked only to receive a shrug. I couldn't answer. I didn't know what she wanted me to say. "What's wrong with your brown nail polish? I thought that was your favorite color?"

My stomach twisted. I knew what I was supposed to say, but the words caught in my throat like a lump of lead. It should have been so easy to get those words out of my mouth. After all, they were words I had been saying all my life. And yet, something said that saying that would be worse than giving up the dress ever would be.

"Kacey?"

"No...not really," I finally managed to say looking down at my toes. They had no nail polish on them and I was wondering in my minds what colors I could use to give them life. A color that wasn't brown.

"What?"

"I don't like brown...I never have."