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People See the Inside
I just woke up and I'm on a call with my friend as I'm putting on makeup. Almost every Saturday since sixth grade, Sophia and I have had video calls first thing in the morning. We usually talk while I'm doing my makeup, which takes me about an hour and a half.
"I still don't understand what takes you so long to do your makeup every day. I personally don't mind it, but everyone at school hates you for it." Sophia says as I put on some more mascara. She, alongside every person I know, has told me I spend too long getting ready in the morning.
"They're just jealous," I respond as I gently dab blush onto my cheeks. "Beauty comes with a sacrifice." To me, beauty is more important than anything, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to be the prettiest girl in my school. Sophia's such an idiot sometimes.
"Hurry up honey, it's time to go makeup shopping!" my mom hollers from down the stairs.
"Ugh, I'm coming! Just give me a sec, for Christ's sake!" I scream to my mom.
"See you later Sophia. Gotta go to the mall now." I hang up the phone as I head down the stairs.
"Okay. Now I'm ready," I say as I smile and strut into the kitchen. I am wearing the most beautiful outfit -- a white blouse with sequins, a pink skirt, and my favorite Prada boots.
"But first, did you clean your room?" my mom asks.
"No, but I was planning on doing that later," I lied. "Can we go now?" I stand in front of her and stare wide-eyed -- it's a persuasive technique that I've gotten good at over the years.
My mom rolls her eyes at me. "Alright, Avery." My mom starts walking to the door. "But remember," She turns around. "You're not getting your weekly allowance until your room is neat as a pin. You hear me?"
"Yeah, whatever mom! Let's just go already." I snap. My mom gives me one last glance before she shrugs and opens the car door for me. I wish my mom weren't such a jerk.
We're finally at the mall, and I get out of the car and walk as quickly as I can into Sephora, my favorite makeup store. Across the room near the fragrances, I see about five girls that are on the school soccer team. All of which, do not like me for reasons that I still can't understand. They all turn their heads to look at me as I walk past them. I don't think much of it, though. They're probably looking at me with envy the same shade of green as their soccer jerseys. I simply shoot them a glare and make my way over to the blush section. "It's a good thing they're looking at perfumes, they sure need it," I say under my breath. I'm so lucky to be so beautiful.
It's been an hour or so, and the girls are finally leaving the store. "I hope you enjoy using your perfume, girls!" I say to them as I wear a fake smile.
"Thank you so much!" one of the girls tells me as they make their way out of the store.
I'm just about done shopping myself, so I call my mom over from the store next door to purchase my makeup. As the cashier finishes registering everything, the total comes to about fifty dollars, which isn't nearly as much as I usually spend.
Even then, my mom still has the audacity to ask me, "Are you sure you need all of this makeup?"
I can't believe her sometimes, "Of course, mom," I explain. "I need to have enough for the next two weeks. It would be a shame if I ran out within a couple of days. Beauty and hygiene are priorities of mine." Such a stupid question.
My mom chuckles as she swipes her card. "Anything for you, sweetheart."
"Thank you mommy." I say in a sing-songy voice as I grab the bag from the cashier and head to the car.
We're finally home, and I decide that it's far too late to have dinner, so I head straight to bed. I do have to volunteer at the town's Sunday Carnival tomorrow(which I am not a fan of since I hate volunteer work), so it is crucial that I am well rested for the long day ahead of me.
I just woke up in a cold sweat. I look at my hands and touch my face to ensure nothing happened to me. Phew, just a dream. That was one of the most terrifying dreams I've ever had, I'd say. In my dream, I was in the bathroom doing my makeup as I usually do. However, I noticed that the more blush I used, the more my face felt itchy, and red with bumps. The more concealer I rubbed onto my face, the more my hair started to fall out. With each dab of makeup, I saw myself deteriorating before my eyes. But the strangest part about it was when I looked in the mirror… everything was the same.
I'm finally at the carnival, by the house of mirrors, and something feels strange right off the bat. I'm noticing a lot of people, more than usual, are giving me side eyes. Maybe it's because I haven't been to one of these since fifth grade, but I'm not sure.
"That's one… interesting outfit the girl over there is wearing," I hear a man whisper to his friend as he walks past me. "And what is that stench? She smells like a farmhouse."
Is he talking about me? There is no way. I don't think much about what he said until I see a group of girls, who happened to be the girls from the soccer team I saw yesterday. They were all bending over and whispering to each other while taking glances at me.
"What is that hideous outfit she's wearing? A green tee shirt and jeans?" I hear one of them say. Since I'm wearing a dress, there's no way they're talking about me.
"Yeah, and she smells horrible -- she could really use some of that perfume that we bought yesterday. "
What? For a moment I'm confused. I'm wearing a green dress, not green jeans and a green tee shirt. But I was there when they bought the perfume at Sephora, so are they talking about me or not?
After they walk past me, I immediately walk into the House of Mirrors. I look down at myself and see my beautiful green dress with flowers, and I feel my smooth face. Then I look at myself through a distorted mirror, and I'm flabbergasted by what I see. A girl with red acne covering her face, wearing a green tee shirt and green jeans, is staring back at me. I frantically look down at my dress and back at my reflection in the mirror five times before my knees collapse from beneath me and I sink to the floor, burying my head in my hands.
What on earth is going on? I think back to when I was doing my makeup this morning. Sophia's such an idiot sometimes. I wish my mom weren't such a jerk. Such a stupid question."Ugh, I'm coming! Just give me a sec, for Christ's sake!" I think back to when I saw those girls at Sephora. It's a good thing they're looking at perfumes, they sure need it, is what I thought about them. I think back to my dream from last night, and realize it has come true. Every rude comment I've said, every temper tantrum I've thrown, every time I've screamed at my mother, is staring hideously back at me in the mirror. I burst into tears. Most of my life I've tried to be beautiful, even if it meant pushing people down with my words and thoughts. I always believed that beauty requires a sacrifice, but I never would have thought that this would be the outcome, that I've only been harming myself. And now that I'm standing in the mirror, looking at a true reflection of myself, I know why so many people hated me. It wasn't for my beauty, but for my ugliness -- all these years I was too caught up in makeup and beauty to realize that my inward ugliness has affected me outwardly.
My mom finds me and walks into the House of Mirrors.
"Avery, what's wrong," she asks as she bends down to my level.
I look up at her with red, puffy eyes. "I just--" I pause myself to prevent another surge of sobbing, and my mom wraps her arm around my shoulders. "I just want to say sorry for how I've been treating you." I would have said more, but my lips are trembling too much to utter another word.
My mom gives me the biggest hug. "Oh honey. I know how girls your age are, so I won't take it personally when you snap at me here and there, or start wearing makeup." She pinches my cheek and smiles. "Just stay beautiful from the inside -- that's what matters most."
I wipe my tears and blush. "Thanks, mom." We sit in each other's arms and have a long pause. "By the way, have you seen my outfit today?" I ask.
"Yes! What a beautiful green dress you're wearing!"
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Ever since a young age, I've loved to write. To me, writing is an amazing way to connect with others, and to share lessons with one another. This is exactly what I was trying to do when I wrote "People See the Inside." This story is about a rude girl named Avery who wakes up one day to realize every insult she gave people have become true about herself. By writing this story, I wanted to emphasize that nothing is achieved my pushing other people down.