Unbound

“Turn, turn, turn!” Lisa whispered furiously to herself as she watched her daughter Charlotte strut down the runway.

“Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall,” Charlie thought to herself as she turned on the runway. She flashed her dazzling smile to the judges and turned back down the walk to go backstage for her final dress change.

“Out of the way, out of the way!” Charlie heard her mother shout impatiently to other competitors and their mothers as she was helped by one of the assistants into her white crystal lace gown.

“Charlotte! There you are,” Lisa said, brushing the assistant off and finishing sipping the back of Charlie’s dress. “You’re definitely in the top five, but you’re going to have to step it up.”

“Mom, I’m doing the best I can,” Charlie hissed at her exasperatedly as she exchanged the black flats she was wearing for a pair of white high-heeled sandals.

“I know you can do better than that last run,” Lisa returned scathingly while helping her daughter with the shoe straps.

“Mom, I’ve been awake since four o’clock this morning,” Charlie reasoned. “Give me a break.”

“A break?” Lisa asked. She blinked once and her expression turned from questioning to furious in two seconds flat.

Charlie mentally slapped herself for not realizing the consequences of making that statement.

“When I won Miss New York, Miss United States, and Miss Universe do you think I had a break?” Lisa demanded tremulously. “Do you think I bitched and moaned about being tired, being sick, or being hungry? No I did not!” She fumed before Charlie could get a word in edgewise. “Now get out there and win that damn crown!”

“Yes mother,” Charlie replied curtly before walking back to her place in line to go on stage again.

“And no crying,” Lisa called after her. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

Charlie bit her lip as she waited for her pageant number to be called. It was her cue to walk back onstage.

“Number one-nineteen, Charlotte Smithson,” she heard the announcer call out into the microphone.

“It’s Charlie,” she wanted to say as she put on a fake smile and walked back on stage.

This was Charlie’s life. An endless parade of pageants, competitions, and beauty contests. She had been competing since the fragile age of four under the direction of her pageant queen mother, who was a constant reminder of how she was supposed to live her life. Now almost twenty three, she was well on her way to becoming the beauty queen her mother had always wanted her to be. If she only wanted it.

No one had ever asked her if this was how she wanted to live, day in and day out going on only five hours of sleep. Barely being able to eat to maintain her size four dress size, which her mother constantly insisted was too big. No one had ever asked her if winning tiaras, ribbons, and sashes was what she wanted to spend her time doing, rather than spending it with friends. Not that she really had any friends. The only girls she knew were those in the pageants, whom her mother referred to as ‘the competition,’ nothing more. She had been home schooled by a private tutor all through middle school and high school and had finished college via online courses. Unfortunately for Charlie, this was her life and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your new Miss New York....” the announcer trailed off excitedly as he opened the white envelope and the lights dimmed. “Charlotte Smithson!”

A spotlight snapped on Charlie and she was nearly blinded as the whole room burst into applause. She put on a wide show smile as she felt a tiara being placed carefully atop her auburn hair which was currently styled into ringlets. A girl came up to Charlie from the side of the stage to place a white sash with black lettering reading ‘Miss New York’ on her shoulder and across her thin frame. Then another girl came up to her bearing an enormous bouquet of red roses for Charlie to hold as cameras flashed from the audience.

“Congratulations, Charlie,” Britteny, the runner-up said hugging her before walking off stage with the rest of the girls.

“Thank you,” Charlie returned sadly as she watched the girls leave, desperately wishing to be one of them. Wishing she could just go home instead of being forced to carry on with this beauty charade.

“Charlotte, you did it!” Lisa exclaimed, running up to her onstage and hugging her tightly.

“Yeah,” Charlie sighed. “I did.”

“Come on, let’s go get you changed,” Lisa said leading her offstage. “They’ll be wanting to interview and take lots of pictures of you.”

“Joy,” Charlie muttered, not being able to hide her sarcasm. She allowed herself to be pulled past various photographers, reporters, and other pageant girls some of which, now in tears.

“Mom?” Charlie asked once on the elevator to go back up to their hotel room.

“Yes?”

“After this last show, I’m done." Charlie removed the tiara and gazed down at it determinedly. One more show and she'd never have to wear any more of these stupid things ever again. At least, that's what she hoped.

“Done?” Lisa questioned bewilderedly. “What do you mean done?”

“I mean,” Charlie said while removing her sash as well. “I’m not competing anymore. I’m done.”

“Oh, that’s what you think sweetheart,” Lisa said as the elevator doors opened on their floor. “You’ve still got four more pageants after Miss USA in Las Vegas.”

“No, mom, I don’t,” Charlie said firmly. “Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time, I. Am. Done.”

“No, I heard you, but you are dead wrong if you think you are anywhere close to being done.” Lisa put her hotel key-card in the slot and opened the door to their room without looking back.

“I’m almost twenty three years old, mother!” Charlie said angrily as she followed her into the room. “I’m not a damn child anymore that you can boss around!”

“Is that so?” Lisa challenged as she riffled through various pageant dresses in the closet for a dress Charlie could change into. “Do you have a job? Any money? Huh?”

“I have my pageant winnings,” Charlie answered stiffly as she allowed herself to be helped out of her dress and into the other.

“Really?” Lisa sneered as she zipped the back of Charlie’s dress for her. “Because the last time I checked, that account we set up for your winnings, that account’s in my name, babe.”

Charlie’s mouth opened in surprise as she realized that her mother was right. She didn’t have a job, couldn’t access her own money, and had no family or friends to speak of. She was trapped.

“That’s what I thought,” Lisa said, smiling smugly. “Now, put your tiara and sash back on. We’ve got interviews to do.”