Marry me

Chapter Seventeen.

"Oh my God. Would someone please get the fucking door?" I heard Kate holler to no one in particular from the kitchen. The doorbell rang again and Kate let out a string of profanities that could for sure, make a sailor blush. Another clattering sound of metal connecting to floor tiles resounded from the kitchen as the doorbell alarm system went off again.

"Can someone please do my ears a favor and murder the idiot ringing my doorbell like a freaking maniac?"

Darn, my ears.

I chuckled quietly to myself before turning my attention back to my reflection on my mirror. I puckered my lips and coated a moderately thin layer and a quick dash of my favorite cherry lip gloss.

After a few -in my own terms- aggravating hours of researching, as expected, Google never actually had solutions to my problem. Well, it did, but the solution was not -in any way- helpful. The solution it gave, was along the line 'Don't be dumb, you can't get away with homicide'.

Crazy, I know.

Then, we -my mum, Crystal, Kate (yes, Kate) and I- spent the extra few hours we had left shopping at The Mall for -in Mr. Asshole's words- 'the party shit'.

"Jeez, Kate," Crystal's voice echoed from the bathroom. "I'll get the door, but do you actually have to be obscene in the language aspect? I get it, you want to butcher the person behind that door to bits and bones, trust me, I also want to do the same thing but please spare my–" the obnoxiously loud doorbell rang again for the umpteenth time cutting her off.

"That's it," Kate exclaimed and I heard the sounds of her heavy footsteps as her feet trod towards the door. "Crystal, go get my hammer and the body bag under my bed–"

"Don't break his or her head, Katherine," my mum interrupted from somewhere but I couldn't actually pinpoint where. "Wait," she called. "Crystal, how do you wear these shoes? I haven't even worn it and my feet are already killing me."

I breathed out a laugh as I hooked my left earring into my left earlobe-hole. I reached for my phone and- dammit.

It was a few minutes past six.

Shit. Wasn't it five-thirty a while ago?

I reached for my rock-studded clutch on the dressing table and quickly shoved my phone into it. Standing up from my seat, I took a final look at my reflected image in the mirror.

I donned a light blue A-line dress that matched my eye color perfectly. Little silver pearls adorned the lower part of the dress (the skirt) and it made the dress look more simple yet elegant. The jewelry I had on was also modest in its own way -a moderate-sized silver necklace with small crystal blue gems and matching earrings. My blonde locks were in tight curls as they cascaded down my back and shoulders, acting like a makeshift shroud for my half-open back.

I sighed, hoping silently that this was fancy enough for Mr. Asshole's fancy family. I padded towards the rock-studded four-inch silver heels that sat beside the foot of my bed and forcefully shoved/squeezed my feet into it.

Crystal stumbled into the room in her three-inch heels, somewhat panting. Her dress was a bit similar to mine but instead of a halter neckline and light-blue fabric, it had a shallow V-neckline and was light pink. Her eyes trailed from the tip of my curled blonde hair to the sole of my silver heels.