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The Underside
I had always wanted to fit in, but I could never seem to manage it. I was pretty sure that my hair was to blame. It’s white. Snow white. At first glance, people think that I have albinism, but I don’t. My eyes are a dark chocolate brown, and my skin tans nicely in the summertime, but nevertheless, my hair stays white. I’ve tried dyeing it, but nothing stays for long. It washes out, almost like my hair is rejecting it of its own free will.
My parents were gone; they had disappeared on their vacation when I was five. I had been left with a friend of theirs for the weekend, but when they didn’t come back, I was placed with a foster family who dumped me at a boarding school far away from everything I had ever known. I’ve been here ever since.
I’ve never had any friends, so when I got invited to a party at a swanky restaurant in town, at first I thought it was a joke; that I would get there and no one else would be there, or they’d be waiting to play some cruel prank on me for a few laughs. But I was desperate, so I took the chance. All the other girls on my hall were starting to get ready, chatting together, flitting in and out of each other’s rooms to borrow cute tops, makeup, and shoes, but I was left alone, as I always was. I snuck quick glances out the door every once in a while, to see what the other girls were wearing so that I could try to emulate their style with the limited wardrobe I was allowed by the headmistress. None of these girls were orphans. They had trust funds and daddies with deep pockets. I was the resident charity case that the school used to help boost their image.
I waited by my door until I heard the girls start to leave and followed behind them. I tried to remain quiet and inconspicuous, even though my hair shone brightly in the moonlight. Every once in a while, a girl would glance back at me and snigger to her friends. I ignored them. This was not a new occurrence and it had long since ceased to hurt my feelings.
The restaurant was so much fancier than anything I had ever seen. Adults were dressed to the nines in their three-piece suits, fancy dresses, and diamonds practically dripping from the women’s ears, necks, and wrists. I stared in wonder as I followed the girls to a back room that had been reserved for us. It was a Christmas celebration that Candy, the daughter of an oil tycoon had put together for the girls on our floor. I supposed that was the only reason I was invited. It might look a little conspicuous if the only person not there was the freak with the white hair. Everyone knew I lived on their floor. The headmistress would probably discipline them if they didn’t invite me along.
I sat in the corner of the room, content to watch the party unfold around me. Most of the girls ignored me, treating me like just another piece of art on the wall, but when it came time for the gift exchange, I was forced to join in. We all placed our gifts into the center of the room and sat in a big circle around them.
To play the game, one girl would pick a gift, then the next person could either take her gift or pick one from the pile. If she took your gift, you had to go pick a new one from the pile. It went around until everyone had a gift. Everyone, except me. There was one gift left in the middle of the room: a plain brown envelope with a bright red wax seal. I felt weird taking a gift from one of the other girls, even though I had been eyeing the one with the pretty silver wrapping paper the whole time. If I took it, she would be forced to take the brown envelope, and she would likely hold it against me for the rest of my life, so with an internal groan in resignation, I slowly got up from my seat and picked up the brown envelope. There was a collective sigh of relief from all the other girls, and they promptly went back to ignoring me as they tore into their presents. Jewelry, perfumes, expensive clothes, nail kits, and makeups started appearing from behind their wrappings. I watched them with not a small amount of jealousy, holding my brown envelope tightly in my hands.
I looked down at it and decided that rather than expose myself to whatever horrors waited inside, I would...
My parents were gone; they had disappeared on their vacation when I was five. I had been left with a friend of theirs for the weekend, but when they didn’t come back, I was placed with a foster family who dumped me at a boarding school far away from everything I had ever known. I’ve been here ever since.
I’ve never had any friends, so when I got invited to a party at a swanky restaurant in town, at first I thought it was a joke; that I would get there and no one else would be there, or they’d be waiting to play some cruel prank on me for a few laughs. But I was desperate, so I took the chance. All the other girls on my hall were starting to get ready, chatting together, flitting in and out of each other’s rooms to borrow cute tops, makeup, and shoes, but I was left alone, as I always was. I snuck quick glances out the door every once in a while, to see what the other girls were wearing so that I could try to emulate their style with the limited wardrobe I was allowed by the headmistress. None of these girls were orphans. They had trust funds and daddies with deep pockets. I was the resident charity case that the school used to help boost their image.
I waited by my door until I heard the girls start to leave and followed behind them. I tried to remain quiet and inconspicuous, even though my hair shone brightly in the moonlight. Every once in a while, a girl would glance back at me and snigger to her friends. I ignored them. This was not a new occurrence and it had long since ceased to hurt my feelings.
The restaurant was so much fancier than anything I had ever seen. Adults were dressed to the nines in their three-piece suits, fancy dresses, and diamonds practically dripping from the women’s ears, necks, and wrists. I stared in wonder as I followed the girls to a back room that had been reserved for us. It was a Christmas celebration that Candy, the daughter of an oil tycoon had put together for the girls on our floor. I supposed that was the only reason I was invited. It might look a little conspicuous if the only person not there was the freak with the white hair. Everyone knew I lived on their floor. The headmistress would probably discipline them if they didn’t invite me along.
I sat in the corner of the room, content to watch the party unfold around me. Most of the girls ignored me, treating me like just another piece of art on the wall, but when it came time for the gift exchange, I was forced to join in. We all placed our gifts into the center of the room and sat in a big circle around them.
To play the game, one girl would pick a gift, then the next person could either take her gift or pick one from the pile. If she took your gift, you had to go pick a new one from the pile. It went around until everyone had a gift. Everyone, except me. There was one gift left in the middle of the room: a plain brown envelope with a bright red wax seal. I felt weird taking a gift from one of the other girls, even though I had been eyeing the one with the pretty silver wrapping paper the whole time. If I took it, she would be forced to take the brown envelope, and she would likely hold it against me for the rest of my life, so with an internal groan in resignation, I slowly got up from my seat and picked up the brown envelope. There was a collective sigh of relief from all the other girls, and they promptly went back to ignoring me as they tore into their presents. Jewelry, perfumes, expensive clothes, nail kits, and makeups started appearing from behind their wrappings. I watched them with not a small amount of jealousy, holding my brown envelope tightly in my hands.
I looked down at it and decided that rather than expose myself to whatever horrors waited inside, I would...
