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Pins and Needles

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. Début The world struggles around It, a back and forth seesaw of demand and denial. It flops inside its box as the world spins, turned upside down. One of the shining, pearl-topped pins jabs Its leg. The pain is a shock. But It is unable to do anything about the agony. Gravity lets go and It floats for what seems an eternity before crashing into something hard. The box remains intact, at least. Its home, Its safe haven. Still, It has no fear, only confusion and need. Where is the girl in whose image It was created? Silence. Darkness. Waiting. All the while, the pin. And the pain. On and on forever. Alice isn't popular. Alice isn't pretty. Alice isn't likable--at least, that's what she's been told most of her life. Moving to a new town hasn't helped any, not with her nasty brother torturing her almost daily and her too-cool, uber-popular cousin making her life miserable. When Alice finds an old doll in her grandmother's attic, she feels an unusual connection to it. She just can't bring herself to feel bad when horrible things start happening to the people who are cruel to her...

Patti Larsen · Horror
Not enough ratings
41 Chs

Chapter 19: The Gift

The door thudded shut behind Alice, breaking her out of the hateful glare she focused on the dress. Betty brushed past her into the kitchen, shaking her head, still radiating anger. Alice caught movement, realized Rose had been there the whole time.

Watching her watch the dress.

"Imagine the nerve of that woman." Betty crossed her arms over her chest, cheeks flushed with anger. "Like she owns the whole neighborhood."

Rose murmured something softly comforting, while her gaze dropped from Alice to the dress slumped over the stool.

"You're going to the formal, Alice?" Rose's deep voice lilted the question.

Alice shook her head, violently, back and forth, her stringy dark hair whipping her cheeks. But Betty's scowl made her stop.

"Of course you are," she snapped. "After the afternoon we went through trying on dresses."

"I don't want to wear that." Alice couldn't even look at the purple disaster any longer. Betty's temper flared, feeding from Mrs. Talbot to her daughter.

"Well, you're going to," Betty said, grabbing the offending thing in her hands and forcing it on Alice. She finally took it, if only to keep her mother from screaming at her. "Now get it up stairs and hang it up before it wrinkles."

Alice felt her shoulders bow, her head droop in defeat. If Betty made her go to the dance in this hideous thing, she would never, ever live it down.

Never.

Alice's retreat to her bedroom felt like she was going to her death, the skirt of the dress dragging on the stairs behind her. Once safely inside her room, she dropped it on the floor, imagining multiple ways she could accidentally destroy it, make it unwearable.

It would be worth her mother punishing her for being clumsy. So worth it.

Unable to stand having it around her one more minute, Alice grabbed it from the floor and stuffed the dress into her closet, shoving it, balled and wrinkled, into the back corner before firmly closing the wardrobe doors.

Let Betty struggle to get the wrinkles out the night of the dance. Alice couldn't possibly look worse in it. Alice sat on the end of her bed, hand sliding into her backpack, reaching for the doll. Her fingers slipped as someone knocked on her door, firm, but not demanding. The bag slid to the carpet with a thunk as Alice reluctantly answered the door.

Rose's beaming smile was more welcome than Alice expected, considering her treatment of the writing yesterday. She had a white box in her hands, quite large, eyes twinkling with a secret.

"May I come in?"

Alice stepped back, allowing Rose to pass into her room. She realized with a start Rose was her first visitor, the first person she'd permitted into her new space. And though Alice liked being alone here, having Rose around didn't make her feel like she'd lost her solitude.

Rose went right to the bed and set the box down. A logo, scrolling in gold embossed letters, graced half the top. Alice drifted forward as Rose reached for the lid.

"I overheard your mother talking to your aunt yesterday," Rose said as her long fingers slid under the top of the box. "And while I know she means well, not every dress suits every girl." The lid slid free, set aside beside the bed, revealing folded white tissue paper. "This was to be my daughter's," Rose said. "For her graduation. My sweet Pepper never had the chance to wear it."

Alice flinched, but her curiosity took over. "She died?"

Rose nodded, sad but still smiling. "She did," she said. "In an accident. Gone too young. But the life she had was happy and full of adventure. So I know her soul rests easy." The white paper rustled as Rose peeled it back, the round, shining gold sticker holding it together peeling away to reveal the most stunning shade of amber. "She was about your size," Rose said, sliding the dress free to unfold in silky waves, "and I know she would have adored you. And want her dress to go to a party after all."

Alice reached for it, tentatively stroking the fabric. Silk, thick and luxurious, rippled under her fingers, cold, but quickly warming to the temperature of her touch. It moved like a living thing, a sheath wide in the hips with a crisscross neckline and thick straps that looked like they would hang softly to the sides of her shoulders. The skirt fell to the floor, belling out gently. The fabric gleamed ever so slightly, sheen catching the light.

"It's beautiful," Alice whispered. "I know," Rose said, still smiling. "Now, let's see how it looks on you, shall we? In case it needs alterations."

Rose slid out of the room while Alice undressed, her hands shaking for another reason. Excitement and a ray of hope shone inside her as she slid the dress over her hips. Perfect fit. Her arms dove under the straps, the bodice smooth over her small chest. Rose knocked once before entering to zip up the dress, then turning Alice around to look.

"My goodness, cher," Rose said, "you look absolutely stunning."

Her? Stunning? Rose was being kind. But as the housekeeper gently maneuvered Alice to stand in front of the half mirror in the corner, Alice gasped.

It did fit! And the color...ideal for her skin tone. And hair and eyes. She no longer looked pale, washed out, but flush with life. Even her hair seemed a richer tone of brown, not the mousey look she was used to. And the shape made her appear curvaceous instead of chubby, accenting her waist while sliding in silky perfection over her hips. Even the fall of the straps on her shoulders and the neckline hit her in just the right places. Only the hem hung too long, forcing Alice to her tip-toes.

"Rose," Alice pressed both shaking hands to her mouth to keep herself from crying. Happy tears were so unusual and felt wonderful, but stopping them was habit. "Thank you so much."

"You are very welcome, Alice." Rose left her to fetch a pair of matching shoes from the box. "Think these will fit?"

Like she'd been transported to a dream, Alice imagined this was what Cinderella felt like the night of the ball as the strappy sandal heels slid over her feet and added three inches to her height.

Another ideal fit.

"I'll hem the last two inches from the bottom," Rose said. "You'll be the star of the ball."

Alice turned and, impulse taking her, hugged Rose so hard the woman gasped before chuckling softly and returning the hug.

All of a sudden, Alice couldn't wait for Fall Formal.

***