My stepmother bought me the worst dress she could find to embarrass me at the prom – but before the night was over, she was crying and begging me to take it off.
Three years after my mother died, my father’s new wife treated me like an unwelcome guest in my own home. When prom season arrived, she spent hundreds on her daughter and gave me the ugliest dress she could find. She thought the whole school would laugh at me. Instead, she ended the night in tears.
Three years after my mother died, our house still felt like it was holding its breath.
My father and I learned to get through the silence together, pretending that the empty chair at the table wasn’t the tallest thing in the room.
Then my father started dating Alexis, and within four months she and her daughter, Brianna, moved into our house.
One of the first things Alexis did was pack up every last thing that belonged to my mother.
Brianna was my age, went to my school, and from the start, neither of them liked me. They were discreet at first, but they became bolder over time.
“Brianna, darling, your hair looks beautiful today,” Alexis said one morning, sliding a plate of pancakes across the counter.
I reached for the syrup, and Alexis pulled back an inch. “Emma, you might want to skip this.”
“Yes,” Brianna added, “or we’ll need a special chair here for you.”
My father glanced quickly at the newspaper, but said nothing. I had already given up hope that he would intervene.
At school, it was the same cycle, just on a different stage.
Brianna walked through the hallways as if she owned the place, and people moved aside for her and her friends.
I kept my head down and counted the months until graduation.
“Three months, Em,” Jenna whispered, bumping my shoulder near our lockers. “Three months and you’re free. Your stepmother won’t be able to touch you anymore.”
I smiled because she was right, and because counting the days until I went to college was the only thing keeping me going.
Prom season arrived at school like a storm front. Posters sprouted on every wall, and Brianna talked about her dream dresses at every meal, even when no one asked.
“Mom, did you see that one with the crystal bodice? It costs $600.”
“Whatever you want, darling.”
My father cleared his throat over his coffee one Saturday morning.
