“Do you like it?” She asked me.
I wanted to say yes. I really did. Mom was reading a magazine behind me, little to no attention here.
“It’s…okay.” I tell the stylist whose face falls because I bet she receives nothing less than praises.
“You don’t like, it pumpkin?”
I shoot my mom a glance to make sure she isn’t looking and then slowly shake my head.
“Why? Well. Why not tell me what you want?”
I point to the single braid in one of the albums; it starts with a galas look and finishes with a pigtail. It was what I wanted from the start but Mom decided for me. My ebony dark hair now in two pony tails with pink ribbons. Any ten year old would like it I guess. Not me though. I want to look like Priyanka Chopra did in Agneepath. But Mom said it was too simple and not fitting for a princess like me. I don’t want to be a princess. I like being a normal person. But nothing has been normal since Dad closed that deal that made us super rich.
I went from sleeping enclosed by my parents to having a whole room to myself. Room filled with dolls and toys I barely use. I can’t help looking at my mom again. I really miss those times. I miss my mom. I miss my dad.
The lady smiles tenderly at me and says,
“What the little princess wants, she gets.”
I hoped my smile remained. I knew she was being this way because of my mother. I wish she wasn’t.
In a flourish of movements, my hair is loosed and braided again. One single braid, long to my waist; thanks to thick, long mane from my Indian roots. My crooked front teeth bare in a smile and the stylist looks pleased with herself. She adorns my hair with a few ornaments and Mom doesn’t look so put off. In fact, she gives me that look she hasn’t in a long time. The look a mom gives her daughter…
Adoration.
This is in response with the Freewrite x Dreemport Challenge for the Month of August. You can read about this Here and you can participate in the prompt Here. Read my amazing partner @jhymi Here.
