A/N: So this is my attempt at a short story. I tried to make it short, but reasonable at the same time. I hope the message got across clearly. Trying to write a short story and disclosing bundles of info is hard. I'm hoping this wasn't too crass for your likes. Much love to readers and reviewers alike. Cheers.

Short Story: Pretty Girls

Written by Suzette Lee-Llacer

2006-2007

I watched as my sisters got ready for tonight’s special occasion. Both were treated like queens, sitting on a pedestal. The makeup lady was busy applying foundation to their faces, which seemed pressed for time. She ran a hand through Amelia’s thick brown hair, twisting certain locks to frame her petite face. Another minute passed and she did the same for Trinity. They were on their way to looking magnificent for tonight.

Before they would do their hair, Mrs. Labelle asked our mother if she’d like for them to be dressed. It would save time and it would ensure that Amelia’s and Trinity’s hair wouldn’t be messed up. At hearing this, our mother agreed with a tiny, overwhelmed sob. Her once-little girls were growing up so fast.

Quickly, I helped Amelia slip into her red, spaghetti-strap gown. It nearly reached the floor, but halted just an inch above thanks to her red stilettos. Mother aided Trinity into her black heels and then into the black gown, which had a little rose pinned to it.

Mom’s hand trembled at adjusting the rose pin, so I asked if I could help. She looked at me in that funny way a mother usually does when she thinks everything is her responsibility and hers alone. After seeing my determination to be part of this event, she walked away and said she’d get coffee. I adjusted the rose pin.

How I loved that rose pin. It was a lot like Trinity; delicate and pretty.

Amelia gave a snort from the backseat. She was busy flipping through magazines. She was looking for the perfect prom hairstyle. Amelia was always grimacing and grumbling at Trinity’s idealism, but that was what set them apart. It helped me figure out which twin was Amelia and which one was Trinity.

Both of them had long, dark locks that accompanied bright green eyes. They looked like people out of fairytales, but only the ones that end with a hint of melancholy. The fairytales that were sugary were for happy girls. Melancholic tales were for pretty girls, or so my mother would say. Just like Snow White.

Mom came back with hot chocolate for me and two coffees for her. She wanted to stay up for as long as she could. She would walk her daughters through this, but somehow she had forgotten that I was around. The hot chocolate was nice, but she nearly forgot who it was for.

“Get Mrs. Labelle in, Andrew.” Her voice was stiff and uptight.

Quickly, I shuffled into the next room. Mrs. Labelle was already working on another girl’s makeup. She looked familiar; I think her name was Jennifer. She was Trinity’s popular best friend and all three of them were going to share a limo with their dates. They were all going to be superstars, even our grimacing Amelia.

“Mrs. Labelle?” My voice was quiet despite the hustling and bustling. “Amelia and Trinity are ready for their hair. Are you almost done with… Jennifer?”

Mrs. Labelle looked at me kindly. She blinked her tired eyes, which were lined with wrinkles and circled by shadows. She had been working for nearly a whole day. Plenty of pretty girls my sisters’ new would be here for makeup and hair. Their mothers were waiting with them too.

“Almost, Andrew,” she added a bit of blush to Jennifer’s naturally pale skin. It made her look a little more lively than what I normally saw. “Done.” She put the blush brush into her front apron pocket. Quickly, she patted her hands dry of anything indigenous to makeup and turned to me. “Any ideas on how Trinity or Amelia wanted their hair to be?”

Timidly, I pull out a folded piece of paper. I remembered Amelia throwing the cut-out from the magazine onto the table. I kept it just in case she forgot what kind of hairstyle her perfect prom hair would look like. “Amelia. She wants… This.”

Mrs. Labelle gave me a grin. We walked into the hair parlour to do their hair.

Mom stood from the table and a newspaper dropped from her lap. She didn’t bother to pick it up, as she rushed upstairs. My fingers trembled, as I reached for the newspaper. The headlines must have been horrible. My guess was that our city’s hockey team had lost in the semi-finals. We all loved hockey here.

When I opened up the folded newspaper, the news was otherwise. There was a headline that our city’s NHL team had won the semi-final game. They would go and play the other semi-finalist in the Stanley Cup finals. But that was the smallest headline on the front of the newspaper.

“Are you sure about this?” Mrs. Labelle asked Amelia and me. My mother sipped coffee in the background, simply overseeing the progress of things. I stood by Mrs. Labelle and just nodded to her question. Amelia wanted her hair to look exactly like that and it would do it no justice if it were altered.

Mrs. Labelle put a finger to her lip. “Don’t you want to hide the bullet hole?”

“It looks perfect. Amelia wanted this.” She looked so pretty, so alive with the makeup and the dress on. The hole on the side of her head meant nothing anymore.

With a sigh, the makeup lady proceeded to spraying her hair into place. I watched as Mrs. Labelled applied a dab of makeup to the bullet hole. It didn’t cover up much, but it made her look a little less broken and more beautiful. Our poor Amelia got the worst of the shots. Jennifer had a hole in her lung. Trinity had one in the heart. At least their dresses covered it well.

To me, they all looked beautiful. And when their dates came tonight and their black suits, they would all look perfect. They would get their roses and their corsages. They would get a crowd of people. They would have their wonderful, formal, prom night. All three of them would be the talk of the town, prom and otherwise.

They would be pretty girls, the kind you find in melancholic fairytales.

“TEEN GIRL SHOOTS TWIN AND FRIENDS, THEN COMMITS SUICIDE.”