When Emily is preparing for prom, she wants to go all out with her outfit, hair, and makeup.

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When Emily is preparing for prom, she wants to go all out with her outfit, hair, and makeup. But her problematic stepmother, Carla, intervenes and takes matters into her own hands...


Okay, buckle up because you just have to hear about this!


For some background, I'm Emily, 17, and a senior in high school. I live with my dad, my stepmom Carla, and her son, Mason. He's 11, and honestly, we get along like two siblings should.


But Carla?


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.


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:... (continue reading in the 1st comment)

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