Thirty Three | Mayflower

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"this is prayer / right? i fall & i drown & i trash & i burn"
—Danez Smith | Don't Call Us Dead

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Several days had gone by since she had spent the night with Paul and Bailey felt as if she'd never been more bored in her life. She had awakened that morning to send both Bella and Charlie off with jellied-toast and a fried egg, and after the front door closed behind them, she had procured a list of all the things she needed to do for the day. There wasn't much – laundry, unloading the dishwasher, reorganizing her closet for the twentieth time though she had decided to do so by color this time around as opposed to sleeve length previously. All of it had only taken up the better half of the morning, so after a small lunch of leftover pasta from the night before paired with a tall glass of soda, Bailey had opted to take a long – albeit unnecessary – shower in an attempt to pass more minutes on the clock. She had pampered herself and used a coconut hair mask, and upon wrapping herself up in her fluffy blue towel and looking down at her dainty hands, she had decided to paint her nails as well. Soft music played from her clock radio in the background while she used the small brush to paint on the pretty lavender shade of lacquer, and once it dried, she took a seat at her desk and sighed. What to do, what to do... she wondered. Then a discarded shopping bag striped with black and white caught her eye and Bailey pulled it her way with a hum.

'Here you go!' she remembered Alice saying as she strode into her room after riding home with Bella one day after school. 'It's not much, but when Rose and I were shopping the other day I saw this and the first thought that came to mind was just how marvelous the color would look against your skin tone! Now go try it on!' She had said. 'I want to see how pretty you look in it!' But just as she had stood to remove her clothes, Edward had appeared out of nowhere before she could continue and claimed he needed to steal Alice away for something pressing. 'It will only take a minute,' the bronze-haired vampire had promised. Unsurprisingly, the two had never come back.

Rifling through the contents of the bag now though, Bailey smiled at the soft fabric that met her fingers and pulled it from between the tissue paper to hold out to see. The gift was a dress made of a soft linen cloth that was both a pretty shade of mustard yellow and patterned with small clusters of dark green and blue flowers. Ruffled stitching cinched the dress at the waist and long sleeves cuffed at the wrist by scrunched elastic while buttons lined the front. All in all, it was cute — simple — and evoked thoughts of wild flower fields in Fall and tall meadows in Spring. Eagerly, Bailey stood and pulled her t-shirt and leggings off and slipped the new dress over her head. Once settled, she walked over to the mirror situated in the corner of her room to see the finished product and smiled to herself at what she saw. Pretty, she complimented, feeling — for what seemed like the first time since her accident — almost completely content with her appearance as she ran her hands up and down the soft fabric atop her skin. The dress fell loosely down to her thighs, its hem brushing just an inch or two above the knee, and covered not only the mess of scars on her leg, but the long-forgotten one running up the length of her forearm. It accentuated her small waist, flashed the shallow hollows of her collarbones with aid from the slight v-neck, and overall made her feel like the wonderful little ball of sunshine so many people already believed her to be. So pretty, she complimented once more, testing out a sweet grin in the mirror and admiring the girl that grinned back. If Gran could see me now, she wondered, swallowing back a wistful sigh as she ruffled the drying mane of curls atop her head. However, deciding not to linger on the bittersweet thought, Bailey walked back over to the bag and peered inside upon hearing something rattle.

"Oh Alice," she murmured into the quiet of her room, shaking her head at the thought of the pixie-haired vampire spending what she knew was undoubtedly too much money on the dress let alone whatever other treasures lay idly by in the bottom of the bag. Making a mental note to thank the vampire profusely next time she saw her nevertheless, Bailey rifled through the remaining tissue paper and pulled out what appeared to be a pink tube of mascara and a gold tube of lipstick. Alice... Bailey sighed. However, she just as quickly smiled. She shouldn't have... she grinned. Then, as she sat before the small mirror resting atop her desk whilst very carefully applying the new mascara to her lashes, she allowed her mind to wander.

Between the Perennial Blooms || Paul LahoteWhere stories live. Discover now