Tara stared at her reflection in her Grandma’s silver mirror. She had managed to start dressing but somehow the whole routine had become an ordeal before she reached her wardrobe. Sitting down on her bed she cried, wondering why this world had to be so cruel.
As a child Tara had stayed with her Grandparents often at Pembroke House. She had fond memories of those times despite her grandparent’s strictness and the stuffy scent of mothballs. Pembroke House had large gardens and Tara was made to feel so at home there that she was able to forget her parents were, once again, abroad.
Her Grandmother was the old fashioned sort and she never understood why Tara had ruined her beautiful figure with tattoos. Tara stared at her reflection, not a piece of artwork in sight. ‘See Grandma’ she said, ‘I can cover them all up, make myself look normal.’ But she felt she would never be normal again. The edge of the world was slipping away from her, numb to it all, Tara felt empty on the inside. She let her tears fall and nurture her uncleansed skin.
Her mother knocked softly on the door, ‘Tara, are you ready?’
The door to reality was opened up at the sound of concern in her mother’s voice, she wiped her tears off her cheeks and placed the mirror gently on the bedcovers. Slowly she stood up and made her way on bambi legs to the wardrobe. ‘Nearly done Mum’ she called, her voice breaking slightly as she reached for the hanger with the black velvet dress on.