Yeah, that woman cannot stand me.
It all started 7 years ago, after my mom passed away from a cold that just wouldn’t go away. Before I knew it, my dad was seeing Carla, and a year later, he married her.
“Your father doesn’t waste any time, does he?” my aunt sniffed on the day of the wedding. “And who is Carla anyway? She’s nothing compared to your mom!”
Carla was fine at first. I mean, she tried hard to get me on her side. But slowly, the passive-aggressive jabs started piling up. I remember once, I caught her staring at me.
“You look too much like your mother, Emily,” she said. “It actually pains me to look at you. No wonder your father gives Mason more attention. He’s closer to Mason right now, isn’t he?”
I sighed and ignored her, trying not to let her words get to me.
My dad, of course, didn’t notice a thing. It was like he couldn’t—or just wouldn’t—see how Carla treated me. And she loved that. She loved being the only one ready to taunt me.
Anyway, fast forward to prom season. Like every other girl in my class, I was dreaming of the perfect night. I saved up enough babysitting money for months to buy a gorgeous violet dress.
I couldn’t help but wish that my mother was around to spend these moments with me.
But that’s why I chose the violet dress. It was her favorite color.
Prom was going to be my night. I just knew it.
Whenever I thought about it, I just felt like something magical was going to happen at prom. To make myself feel even better, I booked a hair appointment at a fancy salon. All my friends were going there too.
Everything was set.
But then the big day came, and Carla made sure to ruin it.
I went to the salon, all excited, but when I got there, the receptionist looked at me, confused.
“Emily? Are you sure?” she asked, looking at her computer screen. “Zelda told me that you canceled?”
“I didn’t!” I exclaimed. “Why would I? Prom is this evening!”
“Calm down, honey,” the receptionist said. “I’ll get Zelda.”
I waited impatiently while she went to get the hairdresser. Finally, they returned.
The hairdresser looked uncomfortable.
“I got a call earlier today saying that you wanted to cancel your appointment, Emily. I assumed that it was your Mom?”
My heart dropped. Canceled? How? I didn’t cancel it! What mom?
I was still processing everything when I looked over and saw her.
Carla.
Sitting there, getting her hair done. Of course.
She saw me and just smirked, her eyes cold as steel. Carla had canceled my appointment.
“Is there any way that you could still schedule me in?” I asked Zelda.
She shook her head sadly.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “When your appointment was canceled, a woman called in and booked her own. All of our slots are taken. I’m sorry, honey.”
I stood there in shock. So, Carla had called pretending to be me? Pretending to be my mom? And then she took my appointment so that she could watch me be disappointed?
Sick.
I barely managed to keep it together as I ran out of the salon, my head spinning. I felt nauseous.
My perfect prom? It was just falling apart around me. By the time I got home, I locked myself in my room, tears pouring down my face.
I sat at my dressing table trying to fix my hair on my own, but nothing looked good. I felt stupid for telling Carla my plans in passing.
See what had happened?
I looked at my dress, hanging off a hanger.
I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to go to prom anymore.
I sat there, looking at my makeup sitting on my dressing table and wondered if it was even worth it. I mean, what was the point? I was already upset and didn’t feel like anything good was going to come from this.
Suddenly, I heard this loud honking outside. I ignored it at first, thinking it was just a random car.
A teenage girl’s dressing table | Source: Midjourney
A teenage girl’s dressing table | Source: Midjourney
But it didn’t stop.
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and dragged myself to the window, fully expecting to see commotion on the road. But when I looked out, my jaw dropped.
A glossy black limousine was parked in front of our house.
I thought it was some sort of mistake. There was no way that the car was for me. My friends’ parents had said no when we first talked about it months ago. But still, I ran downstairs.
I stood at the doorway, waiting for something to happen. The driver stepped out and walked up to our front door. My dad, who had been as clueless as ever during all of this, stood on our porch, looking as confused as I felt.
“I’m here for Miss Emily, sir,” the driver said, holding out a small card.
Miss Emily? Me?
“She’s right here,” my dad said, nodding to me.
I hesitantly took the card from my dad’s hand and opened it. Inside, written in neat handwriting, were the words:
To my beautiful sister, Emily. I know you’ve had a rough time lately, but you deserve the best night ever! Enjoy the limo, and don’t worry about a thing. I’ve been saving all my birthday and Christmas money.
Have a magical night, sis.
Love, Mason.
Mason? My 11-year-old brother did this?
I burst into tears all over again, but this time from pure shock and gratitude. I ran upstairs to find Mason in his room, grinning like he’d just pulled off the ultimate prank.
“I heard Mom on the phone this morning,” he said, shrugging like this wasn’t a big deal. “I knew that it wasn’t fair at all.”
Turns out that he had overheard Carla canceling my hair appointment, and in true little brother fashion, took matters into his own hands.
“But did you really use your money?” I asked him, feeling horrible.
“Not really,” he grinned. “See, Mom has been saving up money to buy some fancy diamond necklace. She’s been showing Dad the necklace, hoping that he would get it for her. But he said no.”
Good for you, Dad, I thought.
“Anyway, after I heard her phone call, she left home. So, I took some of the money from her stash, and went to Mr. Johnson next door. He owns the limo company, remember?”
But Mason didn’t stop there.
“There’s more, Em,” he said. “Mrs. Evans, from across the road? Her daughter is a stylist at the mall. She’s coming here to do your hair and makeup soon.”
Just as the words left his mouth, the doorbell rang.
“That should be her!” Mason said. “Go wash your face, I’ll send her up.”
When did Mason grow up? I wondered as I did what he said.
Twenty minutes later, I went from crying in my bedroom to looking like a princess. I just wished my mom was around to fuss over me. To take endless photos and tell me how proud she was of me. I wanted a hug from her more than anything.
But still, Mason had saved prom!
When Carla drove into our driveway, I was already outside, stepping into the limo like a movie star. Her jaw dropped. And she got out of the car and just stood there, stunned.
Her face? Oh my God. I wish I had a picture of her expression. I would have stuck it on my mirror!
“Richard? Did you do this?” I heard her shriek to my father before the driver closed the door.
Moments later, the driver whisked me away.
Prom was everything I had hoped for. When I arrived at the hall in the limo, heads turned. I was glowing, and I knew it. For the first time in a long time, I felt like my mom was right there with me.
The whole night was pure magic. Dancing, laughing with my friends, and just forgetting all the drama at home.
As for Carla, I hope she learned a lesson. You can’t mess with someone’s joy and get away with it… especially if your son is going to come in and save the day!
What would you have done?
How to clean dirty bed pillows to leave them white and smelling sweet
Even with pillowcases, pillows gradually lose their freshness with time and may get stains. Every night, they come into contact with perspiration and other materials, which can result in dust, oil, or even microscopic mites. Keeping a clean pillow is crucial for allergy sufferers to get a good night’s sleep. You may create a healthy resting environment and learn how to clean your bed pillows with the aid of this tutorial.
Like picking sheets or duvets, choosing the correct pillow—feather-filled or latex, soft or firm—is essential to a restful night’s sleep. But regardless of its kind or caliber, maintaining cleanliness is essential. It is not protected from overnight sweating by a pillowcase alone, which can result in those unattractive yellow stains. Let’s look at some ways to revive your cushions and restore their former allure.
Continual Care for Pillows: How Often Should You Clean?
Cleaning your pillows on a regular basis is advised to prevent the yellow tinge. Sweat at night is the main cause of this discoloration, as it creates a moist environment that is perfect for germs and mites. Some people might throw away their pillows at the first sign of a stain, while others rely only on pillowcases to keep their furniture clean. The reality? Pillows should ideally be cleaned every six months. In the interim, launder your duvet once a year.
Pillow Revival: A Proven Cleaning Method
Are you looking for a quick and effective solution to kill bacteria and sanitize your pillows? Here’s a reliable, time-tested tip:
Components:
baking soda
Typical laundry detergent
Essential oil of lavender
Check the labels on your pillows to make sure they can be washed in a machine before you begin. After filling the selected drawer with your preferred detergent, add a half-cup of baking soda and a few drops of lavender oil straight into the drum. After running your wash, add two pillows for balance.
Make healthy everyday routines if you want to extend the freshness of your pillows. Take off the pillowcases, crack open the windows, and let the sun shine on your pillows every morning. This lets the air out of your room and keeps moisture and mold from growing. What if your pillows appear somewhat boring? A steam cleaning will make them look nicer. Before washing them in a machine, give them a quick soak in a solution of hydrogen peroxide, white vinegar, and lemon juice for a more vibrant look.
Leave a Reply