The Road To...
FROM THE AUTHOR OF CAMP HEAVEN AND THE LAST STORY! Prologue and Chapter 1 of my newest story. For now it will be called The Road to... and then I'll change it when I get a better idea. COMMENTS (GOOD AND BAD) AND SUGGESTIONS ARE APPRECIATED AND WANTED!!
Prologue
I could feel the stares before I walked on the stage. I could hear the laughter before the curtains opened. I could see their sneers and judging eyes before the spotlight hit me. I knew I'd do fine, I had to. It was expected of me. I'd been doing this for over ten years; it was my destiny to win. Somewhere in the auditorium a voice boomed the words, "and here are your contestants!" A short woman with a headset over her pixie cut ushered me on the stage.
The curtains open, I step onto the cold stage, the spotlight hits my face, and everything disappears. Nothing is here. I can't see, hear, talk, or do anything but walk to my spot on the stage. All I am aware of is the thick, slimy Vaseline spread over my perfectly whitened teeth. "It helps you smile," I remember hearing. I was so young; I didn't understand what this life could lead to. All I knew was that I got to wear pretty dresses with sparkles on them. I didn't like my flipper or the chill of a spray tan, but I didn't mind the makeup. I just liked looking pretty.
I'd always had a choice. There's always a choice. But how stupid can a parent be to force their two-year-old daughter to be falsely tanned, pampered, and plucked at with tweezers? How could anyone watch their baby get waxed, choke and struggle during open mouth surgery to create the perfect set of teeth? How cruel do you have to be to force a little girl to ignore children and only focus on playing the piano until you are a maestro at five? There's always a choice.
My opinion didn't matter. A kid will always agree with their parents' morals, rules, and ideas when they're young. I only had to hear the words, "you can look and feel like a real-life princess" before I was hooked. So the pain didn't matter. I didn't even mind it when my parents would verbally abuse me if I lost. I was only concerned about how beautiful I was. They asked me every year on my birthday if I wanted to stay in pageants, and every year, despite the pressure and pain, I said yes.
This year I would turn sixteen. My parents promised me that at sixteen they would stop coming with me to rehearsals and the spa. It would be my responsibility to book my pageants and provide transportation there. They wouldn't even come with me. The only thing that they would do would provide all expenses, and that would end two years later. This was my last pageant until my sweet sixteen next Saturday. I would be free in only four days, I got to make the choice.
But how could I concentrate on my perfect party when all that mattered was this moment, this feeling? Somewhere in the world my name spilled out of a reporter's mouth and the audience started clapping politely. I stepped up to the piano, my prop, my only talent, my whole life. There were five whole seconds of silence as I invisibly tested the keys. Then the first key was hit. C chord, G, A, B flat. My fingers were flying, the audience is stunned. I play for a while but everything must end at one point or another, so I hit the final note, F.
The audience claps, I smile and bow. With a twist of my hips and a front crossover, I exit my doom. I had guaranteed myself the coveted first place spot, and now I was done. I was free to do as I pleased, and could be expecting the perfect party. The first day of the rest of my life was today.
Chapter 1
Cassandra
"Come on Cassie! If we're late one more time we're going to get disqualified!" Rachael screamed. I rolled over and groaned. For once in my life I would like to be woken up by the sound of breakfast being made or even an alarm clock instead of my roommates. Putting up with Rachael and Tricia could be a handful, but it was always worth it in the end. Besides, I couldn't imagine being without my friends-we'd been together forever!
"Cass, she's not kidding. It's already 8:30," Tricia mumbled next to me.
"Then why don't you get your fat ass in the shower while I finish packing?" I snapped, jumping out of bed. We really shouldn't be fighting like this, but it had been a long night and we had a long journey ahead of us. The Miss California pageant was tomorrow and we had to drive over the entire state and register in less than twenty-four hours. At this rate, we would JUST make it if we wanted time to rehearse.
Showered and dressed, I brushed my teeth and grabbed an orange as I piled our entire wardrobes in the tiny car. To successfully complete a pageant, you needed at least three bags each, and considering that there were three of us in one tiny BMW, it was a miracle that we had won so many pageants. Pageants are about skill, pose, beauty, and talent. All three of us had plenty and enjoyed a little healthy competition.
Usually, we didn't participate in the same pageant to reduce fighting. However, this was the third biggest competition of the year and there was no way that any of us were even considering dropping out to support one another. I know it sounds bratty, but every girl that's been in any pageant can tell you-you are in it to win it. It's every girl for herself. In business, it's a dog eat dog world. In pageants, it's a dog rips out another dogs hair and eyeballs and then slowly tortures them and boils them alive before eating them world.
"Are we all ready to go?" Tricia yawned behind me, still not fully awake even though we had given her a full fifteen minutes to get ready.
"Yes, no thanks to you. Now let's go it's almost nine!" Rachael screamed, stressed about winning as usual. Tricia met my glance and we rolled our eyes at her hostility. We knew it was going to be a long ride and we hadn't even gotten in the car yet.
By one o'clock, we were all starved and bored. At first, we could entertain ourselves with road games and talking about the competition and our boyfriends (and my lack of one). Our choices for lunch were an Olive Garden and some Mexican place that none of us had heard of before. Considering Rachael's issue with Mexican food and the fact that we would have to be in the car with her for another six hours, we went with the Olive Garden.
While we all wanted to immediately pig out on the bread sticks, soup, and salad, the pageant's immanency scared us all into taking one bread-stick each and having just a salad. Tricia wanted to get pasta to split, but even I knew that was a bad idea. All of us gain weight so quickly; we barely eat two thousand calories per day without gaining a few pounds! Normally, you have to eat much more than that and not exercise at all to gain even one pound.
"Look, we're so close! I know that we have to sign in by nine tomorrow, but it's only about six more hours away, so we can get there by seven! Why can't we stop by the beach for a couple hours to get a pre-pageant glow?" Tricia asked.
Rachael shrugged and stated, "I don't see why not. Plus, at this point there's even the quick line express so we can get there even faster. But, one of us would have to take the car."
"I'll take it. I can't get a natural tan anyway. Plus, I can take some time to practice my routine in the room," I offered.
"Well if you don't mind, I guess we'll see you tomorrow," Rachael said, dumbfounded at my submissiveness.
I waved goodbye as I watched my only friends jump on the train to the beach. Well, at least I had twenty hours to make a six hour ride. The highways were empty; I had a map and a GPS, a radio, and all my bags; what's the worst that could happen?
I could feel the stares before I walked on the stage. I could hear the laughter before the curtains opened. I could see their sneers and judging eyes before the spotlight hit me. I knew I'd do fine, I had to. It was expected of me. I'd been doing this for over ten years; it was my destiny to win. Somewhere in the auditorium a voice boomed the words, "and here are your contestants!" A short woman with a headset over her pixie cut ushered me on the stage.
The curtains open, I step onto the cold stage, the spotlight hits my face, and everything disappears. Nothing is here. I can't see, hear, talk, or do anything but walk to my spot on the stage. All I am aware of is the thick, slimy Vaseline spread over my perfectly whitened teeth. "It helps you smile," I remember hearing. I was so young; I didn't understand what this life could lead to. All I knew was that I got to wear pretty dresses with sparkles on them. I didn't like my flipper or the chill of a spray tan, but I didn't mind the makeup. I just liked looking pretty.
I'd always had a choice. There's always a choice. But how stupid can a parent be to force their two-year-old daughter to be falsely tanned, pampered, and plucked at with tweezers? How could anyone watch their baby get waxed, choke and struggle during open mouth surgery to create the perfect set of teeth? How cruel do you have to be to force a little girl to ignore children and only focus on playing the piano until you are a maestro at five? There's always a choice.
My opinion didn't matter. A kid will always agree with their parents' morals, rules, and ideas when they're young. I only had to hear the words, "you can look and feel like a real-life princess" before I was hooked. So the pain didn't matter. I didn't even mind it when my parents would verbally abuse me if I lost. I was only concerned about how beautiful I was. They asked me every year on my birthday if I wanted to stay in pageants, and every year, despite the pressure and pain, I said yes.
This year I would turn sixteen. My parents promised me that at sixteen they would stop coming with me to rehearsals and the spa. It would be my responsibility to book my pageants and provide transportation there. They wouldn't even come with me. The only thing that they would do would provide all expenses, and that would end two years later. This was my last pageant until my sweet sixteen next Saturday. I would be free in only four days, I got to make the choice.
But how could I concentrate on my perfect party when all that mattered was this moment, this feeling? Somewhere in the world my name spilled out of a reporter's mouth and the audience started clapping politely. I stepped up to the piano, my prop, my only talent, my whole life. There were five whole seconds of silence as I invisibly tested the keys. Then the first key was hit. C chord, G, A, B flat. My fingers were flying, the audience is stunned. I play for a while but everything must end at one point or another, so I hit the final note, F.
The audience claps, I smile and bow. With a twist of my hips and a front crossover, I exit my doom. I had guaranteed myself the coveted first place spot, and now I was done. I was free to do as I pleased, and could be expecting the perfect party. The first day of the rest of my life was today.
Chapter 1
Cassandra
"Come on Cassie! If we're late one more time we're going to get disqualified!" Rachael screamed. I rolled over and groaned. For once in my life I would like to be woken up by the sound of breakfast being made or even an alarm clock instead of my roommates. Putting up with Rachael and Tricia could be a handful, but it was always worth it in the end. Besides, I couldn't imagine being without my friends-we'd been together forever!
"Cass, she's not kidding. It's already 8:30," Tricia mumbled next to me.
"Then why don't you get your fat ass in the shower while I finish packing?" I snapped, jumping out of bed. We really shouldn't be fighting like this, but it had been a long night and we had a long journey ahead of us. The Miss California pageant was tomorrow and we had to drive over the entire state and register in less than twenty-four hours. At this rate, we would JUST make it if we wanted time to rehearse.
Showered and dressed, I brushed my teeth and grabbed an orange as I piled our entire wardrobes in the tiny car. To successfully complete a pageant, you needed at least three bags each, and considering that there were three of us in one tiny BMW, it was a miracle that we had won so many pageants. Pageants are about skill, pose, beauty, and talent. All three of us had plenty and enjoyed a little healthy competition.
Usually, we didn't participate in the same pageant to reduce fighting. However, this was the third biggest competition of the year and there was no way that any of us were even considering dropping out to support one another. I know it sounds bratty, but every girl that's been in any pageant can tell you-you are in it to win it. It's every girl for herself. In business, it's a dog eat dog world. In pageants, it's a dog rips out another dogs hair and eyeballs and then slowly tortures them and boils them alive before eating them world.
"Are we all ready to go?" Tricia yawned behind me, still not fully awake even though we had given her a full fifteen minutes to get ready.
"Yes, no thanks to you. Now let's go it's almost nine!" Rachael screamed, stressed about winning as usual. Tricia met my glance and we rolled our eyes at her hostility. We knew it was going to be a long ride and we hadn't even gotten in the car yet.
By one o'clock, we were all starved and bored. At first, we could entertain ourselves with road games and talking about the competition and our boyfriends (and my lack of one). Our choices for lunch were an Olive Garden and some Mexican place that none of us had heard of before. Considering Rachael's issue with Mexican food and the fact that we would have to be in the car with her for another six hours, we went with the Olive Garden.
While we all wanted to immediately pig out on the bread sticks, soup, and salad, the pageant's immanency scared us all into taking one bread-stick each and having just a salad. Tricia wanted to get pasta to split, but even I knew that was a bad idea. All of us gain weight so quickly; we barely eat two thousand calories per day without gaining a few pounds! Normally, you have to eat much more than that and not exercise at all to gain even one pound.
"Look, we're so close! I know that we have to sign in by nine tomorrow, but it's only about six more hours away, so we can get there by seven! Why can't we stop by the beach for a couple hours to get a pre-pageant glow?" Tricia asked.
Rachael shrugged and stated, "I don't see why not. Plus, at this point there's even the quick line express so we can get there even faster. But, one of us would have to take the car."
"I'll take it. I can't get a natural tan anyway. Plus, I can take some time to practice my routine in the room," I offered.
"Well if you don't mind, I guess we'll see you tomorrow," Rachael said, dumbfounded at my submissiveness.
I waved goodbye as I watched my only friends jump on the train to the beach. Well, at least I had twenty hours to make a six hour ride. The highways were empty; I had a map and a GPS, a radio, and all my bags; what's the worst that could happen?
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