Emily wants to look her best at prom, including her hair, makeup, and attire. However, Emily’s troublesome stepmother Carla steps in and resolves the issue on her own by calling off Emily’s hair appointment. When a limousine appears outside Emily’s house, everything is not lost, but who organized it? Well, strap in; you really must hear about this! In brief, my name is Emily, and I am a 17-year-old senior in high school. Mason, my stepmother Carla’s son, and I share a home with my dad. Honestly, we get along like two siblings should, and he is eleven. Yes, that woman finds me intolerable.
Everything began seven years ago when my mother died from a persistent cold. My dad started dating Carla before I knew it, and they were married a year later. My aunt said, “Your father does not waste any time, does he?” the day of the wedding. “In any case, who is Carla? She is not even close to your mother! “At first, Carla was alright. She really made an effort to win me over. But slowly, the passive-aggressive insults started stacking up. I recall catching her eyeing me once.
Emily, you remind me too much of your mother,” she remarked. “It hurts so much to look at you. It makes sense that your father pays Mason greater attention. He is getting closer to Mason now, is he not? I tried not to let her remarks affect me as I sighed and turned my back on her. Of course, my dad saw nothing of the like. It seemed as though he was unable to perceive how Carla treated me, or refused to. She cherished that. Being the only one willing to tease me pleased her. All right, let us go back to prom season. Just like all the other girls in my class, I had visions of the ideal evening. I spent months earning enough money from babysitting to purchase a stunning violet outfit.
I could not help but wish my mom was here to share these special times with me. But it is the reason I went with the violet outfit. Her favorite hue was that one. Every time I considered it, I could not shake the feeling that prom would be a magnificent event. I made an appointment at a luxury salon for my hair in an attempt to cheer myself even more. My friends were all planning to go there. I was so excited when I arrived at the salon, but the receptionist just stared at me. “Emily? Are you certain?” Glancing at her computer screen, she asked. “I heard from Zelda that you canceled?”
“No, I didn’t!” I let out a cry. “Why would I do that? This evening is prom night!” “Slow down, my dear,” the front desk agent urged. “I will fetch Zelda.” I waited nervously as she went to get the hairdresser. At last, they made their way back. The hairstylist appeared uneasy. “Earlier today, Emily, I received a call informing me that you wanted to cancel your appointment. I thought that was your mother, right?
