Status: Complete. [Sequel - You're A Classic Like A Little Black Dress]
Invisible
Final
“You look absolutely beautiful Jess.” My mum said getting teary eyed as I smoothed down the deep purple dress.
“Do you really think so?” I asked. She walked over behind me and put her hands on my shoulders.
She looked deep into my eyes and smiled a smile that only a loving mother could. “Yes, you do. Don’t let anyone tell you anything different.” She looked me up and down once more, blotting away stray tears that fell from her eyes, “You’re growing up so quickly…”
“Aw mom, it’s only the prom,” I reassured her, “it’s nothing.”
“Okay darling,” she said, stroking my hair. “What time is Patrick coming to pick you up?”
“At 7,” I informed her, looking over at the red clock that hung on my wall which told me that it was 6:14.
“I’m going to go and get ready,” she said with one last sniffle before leaving the room. My mom was getting ready to go to a jazz concert in centre of the city with her sister.
“JESS!” my sister’s feminine voice floated upstairs, “Wanna play Guitar Hero?” she queried.
“Of course!” I called, rushing downstairs, eager to play my favourite video game.
I entered the lounge, trying not to fall over in the high heels that I wasn’t accustomed to wearing. Jess tossed me the heavily stickered gaming instrument before asking me what song I wanted to play.
“Dammit, as always!” I grinned, referring to my favourite Blink-182 song.
“Girls, I’m going out! Love you, have a fabulous night Jessie!” she shouted to Eva and me.
10 songs later, Eva and I were immersed in another guitar battle. Green, red, yellow, blue and orange notes flashed down the screen just about as fast as we could handle.
The last chord of the song sounded and Eva and I flopped down on the sofa, exhausted.
“Jess, its ten past seven!” Eva told me after checking the clock in the kitchen.
“Oh crap!” I exclaimed, standing up quickly and smoothing down my dress once more. I trotted upstairs to grab shawl, and my phone. I wondered why Patrick was so late, and the fact that he hadn’t called yet.
I went back to the living room and waited for Patrick’s arrival.
“Jess, I’ve got a really bad headache,” she said while massaging her temples.
“Go and lay down Eve. I should be leaving in a minute, are you sure you’re going to be okay by yourself?” I guided her in the direction of the stairs. She nodded her head gently before taking the stairs to her room.
7:15, I called Patrick to ask where he was. No answer.
The time steadily passed, each tick of the clock hurting me more and more. Where was he? Why hadn’t he called yet?
7:30
8:30
9:30
10:00
10:30.
The prom was over, and I was sitting at home in my front room. I couldn’t help but let the tears fall from my eyes. Patrick stood me up. My mascara and eyeliner streaked down my face as I wondered why he’d hurt me so much.
“Jessie?” my mom asked as she crept into the now dark lounge. I didn’t speak; I just looked over at her, before bursting into tears once more.
“What’s wrong honey?” she came and sat down next me, and stroked my hair.
“He-he stood me u-up,” I stuttered through my tears.
“Oh my god, do you want to talk about it?” she offered, looking at me with hopeful eyes.
“No thanks mom, I just want to be alone right now,” I kicked off my shoes, before shuffling up to my room.
I collapsed onto my bed, facedown. At that moment, I didn’t want to see anybody, to speak to anybody, even to hear anybody. I just wanted to be alone. It was the first time I truly felt rejected, and it hurt, more than I ever could’ve expected it to.
As I rolled over onto my side, a picture caught my eye. It was of me and Patrick at school, one day I decided to take my camera to school. All day long I tried to convince Patrick to let me take a photo of him, but he wasn’t having any of it. Finally, right at the end of lunch, he gave in and I started tickling him. Just as he began laughing I snapped a picture of the two of us. It was a great action shot, we were both mid-laugh, big grins on our faces, in my humble
opinion, it was the perfect picture.
The memory made me smile, only for a split second before the night’s events came rushing back to me.
Patrick; he was my first love, and I knew I could never forget him. But that night, that was all I wanted to do.
“Do you really think so?” I asked. She walked over behind me and put her hands on my shoulders.
She looked deep into my eyes and smiled a smile that only a loving mother could. “Yes, you do. Don’t let anyone tell you anything different.” She looked me up and down once more, blotting away stray tears that fell from her eyes, “You’re growing up so quickly…”
“Aw mom, it’s only the prom,” I reassured her, “it’s nothing.”
“Okay darling,” she said, stroking my hair. “What time is Patrick coming to pick you up?”
“At 7,” I informed her, looking over at the red clock that hung on my wall which told me that it was 6:14.
“I’m going to go and get ready,” she said with one last sniffle before leaving the room. My mom was getting ready to go to a jazz concert in centre of the city with her sister.
“JESS!” my sister’s feminine voice floated upstairs, “Wanna play Guitar Hero?” she queried.
“Of course!” I called, rushing downstairs, eager to play my favourite video game.
I entered the lounge, trying not to fall over in the high heels that I wasn’t accustomed to wearing. Jess tossed me the heavily stickered gaming instrument before asking me what song I wanted to play.
“Dammit, as always!” I grinned, referring to my favourite Blink-182 song.
“Girls, I’m going out! Love you, have a fabulous night Jessie!” she shouted to Eva and me.
10 songs later, Eva and I were immersed in another guitar battle. Green, red, yellow, blue and orange notes flashed down the screen just about as fast as we could handle.
The last chord of the song sounded and Eva and I flopped down on the sofa, exhausted.
“Jess, its ten past seven!” Eva told me after checking the clock in the kitchen.
“Oh crap!” I exclaimed, standing up quickly and smoothing down my dress once more. I trotted upstairs to grab shawl, and my phone. I wondered why Patrick was so late, and the fact that he hadn’t called yet.
I went back to the living room and waited for Patrick’s arrival.
“Jess, I’ve got a really bad headache,” she said while massaging her temples.
“Go and lay down Eve. I should be leaving in a minute, are you sure you’re going to be okay by yourself?” I guided her in the direction of the stairs. She nodded her head gently before taking the stairs to her room.
7:15, I called Patrick to ask where he was. No answer.
The time steadily passed, each tick of the clock hurting me more and more. Where was he? Why hadn’t he called yet?
7:30
8:30
9:30
10:00
10:30.
The prom was over, and I was sitting at home in my front room. I couldn’t help but let the tears fall from my eyes. Patrick stood me up. My mascara and eyeliner streaked down my face as I wondered why he’d hurt me so much.
“Jessie?” my mom asked as she crept into the now dark lounge. I didn’t speak; I just looked over at her, before bursting into tears once more.
“What’s wrong honey?” she came and sat down next me, and stroked my hair.
“He-he stood me u-up,” I stuttered through my tears.
“Oh my god, do you want to talk about it?” she offered, looking at me with hopeful eyes.
“No thanks mom, I just want to be alone right now,” I kicked off my shoes, before shuffling up to my room.
I collapsed onto my bed, facedown. At that moment, I didn’t want to see anybody, to speak to anybody, even to hear anybody. I just wanted to be alone. It was the first time I truly felt rejected, and it hurt, more than I ever could’ve expected it to.
As I rolled over onto my side, a picture caught my eye. It was of me and Patrick at school, one day I decided to take my camera to school. All day long I tried to convince Patrick to let me take a photo of him, but he wasn’t having any of it. Finally, right at the end of lunch, he gave in and I started tickling him. Just as he began laughing I snapped a picture of the two of us. It was a great action shot, we were both mid-laugh, big grins on our faces, in my humble
opinion, it was the perfect picture.
The memory made me smile, only for a split second before the night’s events came rushing back to me.
Patrick; he was my first love, and I knew I could never forget him. But that night, that was all I wanted to do.
♠ ♠ ♠
Well guys, this is it. The end of the story, but don't be too sad because there will be a sequel, you can check out the link in the top right hand corner of the page. There's a few people I want to thank and they are;violet-stars | Super Spaztastic | kt-Scissorhands
Heartbreakisforever | Skiba | LakeEffectKid | music_is_love | punkbitch.
MrsUrie | Rachelish | Bon Jon Vovi | i defy you stars. | redvelvetorangecrush | Rhea | ReinventLOVE---X | Tarot | Delusional.weirdo! | MiracleGates | Divaa xo | ryden.obssessed :3
| Sister Strange
Thank you all for commenting on this story. I'm glad you liked it, without those comments spurring me on, this story would still be on the third chapter or something! I'm sorry if it didn't end the way you wanted it to, you'll have to read the sequel to find out what happens next...
xx
Lola