FEAR

     "You can go check yourself out now," Charlotte said cheerfully. 

      Faith rose from where she sat and walked with counted steps to the mirror. She didn't know what she was expecting. She had never been a fan of makeup, she couldn't remember the last time she ever did that on her face, maybe at prom, at graduation from college, she couldn't remember, but most of the time, she had just been plain old Faith. 

      Where would she had gotten the money, even if she had wanted to makeup? Her father wouldn't have allowed her that luxury. She even remembered the day a friend, Bianca had put eyeliner on her and she had carried it home. Her dad had seen it and had asked her what it was, she had tried to explain to him but she had gotten two hot slaps instead and tiny stars had hovered above her head then, she had found herself on the floor, blinking away the darkness that covered her eyes.  

      He had walked up to her and had stooped low, yelling that she was naturally beautiful and that the women in the bible never used makeup and yet they were the best women ever. She couldn't remember vividly when it was if it was in high school or her early days in college, but she knew that that had been the end of that friendship with Bianca and the end of makeup on her face. It was one of those many memories she wanted to blurt out, the one she wanted to totally forget. 

       But having her face all beaten up, the memory had come flooding back and she was kind of scared— maybe, her dad was going to come from the dead and give her another slap. This time it was going to be more wrecking because she was sure that the slaps from humans and that from the dead were never going to be the same.

      The journey to her dressing mirror had to be the longest journey she had made in her life. She walked with uncertainty, dreading what she would see in that mirror. She doubted Charlotte's capability and she was still scared of her father. 

      "Come on, Faith check yourself out and thank me quickly," Charlotte goaded. 

      She almost startled her, but she had recovered quickly and had braced herself. Thinking about the dead was sure to make one jump at any slightest noise, especially when the dead was her father. She finally got to the mirror and was shocked at who stared back at her. For a moment, she doubted if she was the one looking at herself in that mirror. 

        But, gradually, she started seeing the features that convinced her she was actually the one. A smile played out on her lips. She couldn't touch it to avoid ruining it. She was beautiful. 

       "You like?" Charlotte asked coming over to the mirror and looking at her through the mirror. 

        "I love it!" she cried, the fear of her father rising from the dead to slap her, gradually dissipated. This was reality, her father was dead and long gone. 

       "I'm glad you love   it," Charlotte said.