THE PROM DRESS (750 WORDS)

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Ktwills79
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THE PROM DRESS (750 WORDS)

Post by Ktwills79 »

Feedback appreciate, hope you enjoy : )

THE PROM DRESS

Realization dawned on Margot as the shiny purple prom dress was tugged into place across her daughter’s mid-section. Margot tilted her head, squinted her eyes and tried again. The dress was definitely telling her something she didn’t want to hear. Was this what middle age had brought her (apart from sagging breasts, greying hair, and 26 inch thighs)? Did all mothers feel this way when confronting the reality of their children’s budding bodies and looming adulthood? She doubted it. Life had always been especially cruel to her, and this day seemed to be no exception. She sighed.
“Jane.” Oh boy, how to start? Should she google how to have this conversation? Somehow she thought not.
“Yes mom?” Jane eyed her mother innocently, twisting and turning in front of the mirror as she prodded the dress into place. She snapped a selfie in the mirror.
Margot sighed resignedly and lapsed back into silence. Jane’s teenage years had been plagued by insomnia, anxiety, and depression (but sadly not a lack of appetite) which had engulfed the entire family, much as her stomach seemed to be engulfing that hideous dress. Jane had gained weight at an alarming rate, much faster than she seemed to gain insight into her personal distress. Her sadness was palpable, yet had no immediate cause that her parents could see, having started when she was just barely into her teens.
When Jane’s older sister discovered a butcher knife under Jane’s bed, Margot knew it was time to acknowledge the menacing fact of her daughter’s depression. She and her husband, Fred, had tried all the usual tactics. They “talked” about it, to no avail. Jane skirted the issues and lied to their faces. They engaged her in “Extracurriculars” at school. Jane made an overwhelming effort to flunk out of every one, even free time where activities were provided and all you had to do was choose one. How the hell does one flunk out of free time, Margot had wondered?
Finally, they had plunged into the murkiness of adolescent counseling. This had been the most spectacular failure of them all. Jane had tried 3 counselors and had systematically dismissed each one for reasons that grew more and more absurd. The first one, she claimed, had fallen asleep during their session. The second one had said there was nothing wrong with her. The third one…well, Margot had dismissed that one after the counselor came to the robust opinion that it was The Parent’s Fault. She suspected that Jane had lied to all three, especially the last one. She was no more at fault here than the dog was. At least that’s what she kept telling herself at night when her own brand of insomnia crept in.
Much like marriage, parenthood had come with more of the bad days than she had ever anticipated possible. She loved her children as much as anyone (or did she?), but sometimes the task of raising three girls into strong women threatened to crush her. When her children were little she would look at the other mothers at the park, watch them talking to their children in engaging, endearing ways. And she would wonder what she was missing…what maternal gene had skipped her that meant she couldn’t look at her kids with that gooey, doe-eyed love?
When Jane was born, Margot snuck a look at her medical chart after the nurse left it hanging on the foot of her bed. “Mother not bonding with infant. Not holding or interacting with babe”. “Well sh*t”, thought Margot, “I just had a C-section after 44 hours of labor”. Sighing, she had waited until the nurse came back in, then had picked Jane up, cooing into her little red face until the nurse left again. “There,” she thought, “That ought to do it,” and she replaced Jane in the bassinet.
Jane had proved to be an easy baby. Perhaps too easy, thought Margot as she reflected on Jane’s babyhood. Easy to put down. Easy to let sit and watch TV for hours on end. Easy to ignore. A nagging feeling rapped at her brain incessantly as Margot tried heartily to ignore it. Plenty of parents use the TV as a babysitter—doesn’t mean their children will be depressed and suicidal. And pregnant.
Margot snatched the now-clothed Jane by the hand.
“Jane, we’re going home and you’re taking a pregnancy test” she stated through gritted teeth.
Jane burst into tears as the purple satin dress fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

The End
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DATo
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Post by DATo »

Nice story. I enjoyed the way you handled the responsibility angle. I first placed all the blame on Jane for being a difficult child until you described Margot's level of interaction with her (or lack of it) when Jane was a baby and as Jane was growing up. It made for a subtle twist in the very middle of the story rather than at the end where we usually expect it to be. Very clever!

Good work!!!
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kmkline120
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Post by kmkline120 »

Wow, you are an amazing writer! I was really interested in this story and hope you expand on it so I can read more. I felt bad for Jane because she has clearly been struggling. And, I also felt the mother's pain caused by a lack of understanding and possibly a sense of helplessness. It is interesting only hearing things from the mother's side, though. If you wind up expanding in this, maybe you could also tell things from Jane's perspective somehow? I definitely get the sense that the mother/daughter relationship is strained, which is always a compelling dynamic to explore.
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ccranston
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Post by ccranston »

Great job making the main character come to life! It's refreshing to read about a mother who doesn't have it all together, because really what mother does? I hope you continue writing this story, because I'd love to read more!
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Lesandra1996_21
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Post by Lesandra1996_21 »

It's realistic and I like that, it's something more mother's go through each and everyday. I think you being able to bring this alive means you've seen and acknowledge these everyday problems.
I say continue with the good work.
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