________________                                                     +++                                            ________________

     I heard a knock on my door, so quiet I probably could have missed it.

     "Come in," I yelled out.

     My mom walked into my room, dress in her hand, and a curling iron in the other.

     "Hi! I, um, wanted to help you get ready. It's been a long time since I've, uh, you know, help you get ready." My mom sat down the dress on my bed, and plugged the curling iron in.

    I looked over at her, and tried my fully best not to cry. Just hold them in, I told myself.

     She had her makeup already on, and her hair already curled. Looking absolutely flawless. Although, I could still notice the nervousness in her voice.

    I didn't say anything as I sat down in front of her. I just couldn't believe this was actually happening.

"Oh god. When's the last time you brushed your hair? It's so tangled." I tried not to screech every time she brushed too hard.

"Alright, now that that's done, go try on your dress." She put the curling iron down, and went to pick up the dress. "How's this dress? Do you like it?"

The dress was very pink, with sparkles on the top half and a big white bow right in the middle. Something I would've worn when I was seven, not twelve. But I nodded.

"Alright then, go change into it. I'll pick out a pair of shoes for you."

I carried the dress to my bathroom, and locked myself inside. I let the tears spill right out. What I couldn't understand was that if they were tears of joy or tears of sadness. I wiped them away. Whatever reason, my mom is taking to me, and I will not ruin this again. I threw the dress on, and stepped outside.

     "Do you like it? It's a little short, but it works just fine." I waited for her to turn around, but she just sat there, facing my closet.

"Mom?" I whispered. She didn't hear me so I said it again, a bit more loud.

She turned around, and shook her head.

     "You don't like it? I'll go change right n-"

     "NO!" She yelled. I stayed quiet. Best thing to do is stay quiet, as Dad says.

     She looked up at me, and now I could see the tears strolling down her cheek. I rushed over to her side.

     "Mom, what's wrong? What happened? Did I do something?" I gave her a tissue, but all she did was push me away.

     "You took away my daughter. That's what you did." It came out in barely a whisper, but I heard it. I didn't know what to do or what to say so I just sat there, holding back my tears.

     "I'm sorry." She cried as she walked away, and my tears spilled right out.