CHAPTER FIVE

We were on a short break at school and that meant relaxation time, well… for everyone except me. I had a lot on my plate. Trying to fend off a deadbeat mother wasn’t exactly mentally soothing. I agreed to train as a model with the help of my besties.

It was hectic to be honest. It didn’t exactly bring great memories. I had to repress those memories and go on like nothing was wrong. It was hard work but it got to a stage that I thought it was not that bad. I enjoyed quite some parts.

My mentor, Ms. Lawrence was patient, guiding me through every step. She even encouraged me to choose my style of clothing that reflected who I was. She had brought in so many styles of dresses, shorts, jeans, trousers, shirts, blouses…mention it.

It brought back certain memory. I was seven and loved pink frilly dresses and paint but mom said it looked tacky and dressed me in clothes she deemed more classy and future model - worthy. She’d pack my hair in complicated styles that were replicas of hers when all I wanted was to rock my afro in cute buns, pigtails and use pink clips on them. It was hard. Thinking about it, I really felt stiffled and suffocated.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the wardrobe. I chose a green off shoulder blouse and some high waisted jeans. I walked to the accessories’ closet. Some of my old shoes had been replaced. Ms Lawrence really put in efforts. I chose a chain belt that matched my earrings and a black pair of sandals.

I looked into the mirror. The girl I saw, seemed nervous yet hopeful. I smiled at her. She had been in the dark for too long, cloaked with self loathing and letting others walk all over her and decide her life. I straightened my spine and my chin. No more slouching or bowing my head.

I opened the makeup box I had left abandoned for a long time. The items in it had been replaced. I sat in front of the mirror, tears falling off my face. I wiped them clean. “No more,” I uttered quietly.

I applied some makeup accentuating my eyes and lips. I painted my nails for the first time in maybe six years.I packed my hair into two afro puffs. I put all I needed in a tote bag and walked to the mirror. I smiled, “This is more like it.”

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Tim was baking some cookies when I walked down. I tapped him. He turned to me swiftly with a smile. His smile turned bittersweet as he looked intently at me. “I see you’ve changed your dressing style,” he remarked.

I nodded affirmatively and he patted my shoulders. We ate breakfast in silence until I told him that I wanted to go see the girls.

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The girls were excited to see me and more excited because of my outfit. They, unexpectedly, didn’t broach the topic as we were discussing. We went to the park where we met Mindy.

She was quite shocked when she saw me. Her face was soon distorted into a snare. “ You think some make up and outfit will change who you are. You are just some wannabe girl trying to not be at the bottom of the chain. Kaffy replied her, “Shut up, will you?” Trina was also about to say something when I interrupted, “I appreciate you guys trying to fight my battles but I have to handle this myself.”

I looked at Mindy, “I do not understand your obsession with me but I will not take any more insults from you. Don’t you have something better to do? Watch your back.”

We left behind a scared Mindy, holding hands and smiling. We walked around, sightseeing. It was quite fun and a great distraction from the fact that the competition was starting in a few days.

Our phones suddenly chimed simultaneously. It was a notification from Juizzy, our school’s gossip column. It read thus,

“Pageantry princess, Mara Dawson, the daughter of Ann Lopez has apparently been hiding in our school, taking on the identity of Chloe James, aka The Bookworm. Which of these persona is real? Is the schoolmate we have known for years real or just a cover for something else? Stay tuned for some juizzy gist”

I was so shaken that the girls had to take me somewhere I could sit. After five minutes of silence, I started, “I was a not so normal girl living with her family in a little town. Mom had been a pageant queen. She was so beautiful and everyone thought dad was a lucky bastard to have been able to win her heart. However, mom was a vain woman obsessed with beauty and material things.

Dad loved her so much and tried hard to satisfy her. She wanted more and more. She suddenly dressed me up one day and my pageantry journey started. She became more controlling. I had to act a certain way, dress a certain way, walk a certain way. It was exhausting.

It started to affect her relationship with dad. He could deal with her excesses but dragging me into that world was what he could never take. They started to argue more often. Not long after, he left home.

Mom became worse after the split. She started to push further. She soon left to pursue her obsession with beauty as soon as Tim became legal. We were stumbling blocks in her path, especially me. I had to dance to her tune. I wasn’t enough. I was some mini version that wasn’t even up to par.

Dad turned his back on us and never looked back. Tim has been my rock, father and mother. He is really amazing. He has always been an old soul, wiser beyond his years and his trust fund really helped. He is doing pretty good.

As soon as mom left, I left the pageantry world. I adopted new names: Chloenathra - my other name and James - granddad’s first name. I miss dad.I wish he hadn’t left. Maybe we’d have been okay.” I sniffled as the girls comforted me in a hug.

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