Eleven

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Gerald showed me to a room with Victeria. She waxed and plucked, primped and shined. She curled the ends of my hair slightly and pinned it behind my ears, like hers.

She applied a light layer of makeup to my lips and eyes. She put this black stuff on my eyelashes that tickled. By the end I was unrecognizable.

I looked in the mirror and thought I looked slightly...pretty. It was odd. I never really looked in the mirror. The orphanage had one in the bathroom but the reflection was so low quality and dirty, that it made me feel worse about myself.

She handed me a bowl of plain oatmeal and a glass of water and I nearly snorted. It was hilarious and eye opening to see how they treat the lowest people to them, despite living with gold literally hanging above their entitled asses.

It didn't look too good, not like anything I'd make at the orphanage. I hadn't realized how hungry I'd been. I loved to cook, to bake, I loved to feed people. Seeing people go hungry —there is nothing like it. I would give up my last plate and starve before I let another go hungry.

When I was a child I spent many nights in the orphanage hungry, the hunger pains were so bad that I couldn't sleep. When I was ten, I vowed that I would always do everything in my power to make sure people got enough to eat.

I scarfed the food down while I was alone. Victoria had announced she'd be right back and left the room. I was glad to eat in peace because of how my stomach reached for the food. I was done and set it next to me. A few minutes passed by as I looked at myself again.

I looked like a grown woman. I'd never really shifted my mindset from that girl who grew up in the orphanage. I just took up certain responsibilities without complaining, but I guess that's what being an adult was all about.

I was still in my little nightgown, and despite the low quality and itchiness, I could still see my curves in it. I was rather thin, you could see some of my ribs, but that didn't take from my feminine frame. The weight I did carry was in my thighs, my hips, and my bottom. My breasts peaked through the material. Despite being on the smaller side, ever since my first bleed, my breasts had been rather apparent.

I never stopped to notice how they'd grown. I was done growing. I was built to bear children. Not that I ever would. I knew who and what I was. I was the child of a rapist, and I would never choose to bring a little one into a sick and twisted world such as this one. Heaven forbid it be a girl. She would be terrorized and I don't think I could protect her.

The door opened and Victeria swiftly moved through with a silky garment in hand. She carried a pair of kitten heels. They were expensive looking to me, probably not to her.

That was when I noticed she had changed. She donned a light green gown. It was feminine but strong. Her blond hair was wrapped up now, delicate pieces flowing from her neat bun intentionally. Her makeup was much more glamorous and fierce than mine. She must've used magic to dress because with so little time...there's no way she got herself ready so quickly.

The see through green fabric cascaded down her back from her shoulders, like a cloak. The dress reached the floor. It had very soft and subtle sparkles throughout that caught the light. I noted that the bottom of it flared out with subtle and different greens. It was absolutely stunning on her. It hugged her every curve as she moved to pass me the items she had gone to fetch.

"Put these on, and move quickly, we've got only 10 minutes." I did as she told and squeezed my body into the lacking fabric. It was unbelievably soft and stretchy.It rested just below my bottom, I knew one wrong move and all would be exposed. I could never bend over in this dress. My naked body would be on full display.

It was white, and hugged my skin like a glove. The strapless neckline sat very low on my cleavage. My nipples peaked through the thin fabric, making me blush slightly, but I didn't know if she noticed, as I stared at my feet. I slipped into the sexy kitten heels, feeling very out of my comfort zone. I'd never worn heels. I'd seen the rich women wearing them at the market, but I'd never even touched a pair.

She examined my work and fixed my hair slightly. I squeezed the flower in my palm, keeping it very hidden. "Ok, let's go."

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