Pretty and Reckless

[IRENE ELAINE HAWTHORNE]

Age 5

Hey there, Father I don't wanna bother you
But I've got a sin to confess

It all started with a dress, a pale pink that brought out my eye color and my skin a lot paler than it was supposed to be. I supposed it could also start with a smile but that was later. The dress stopped at my knees and my hair fell in loose curls down my back. I had natural beauty as my mom liked to call it and at five years old I was always runway ready. I have no problem with admitting that I was and still am narcissistic. It was my birthday, and I hated that stupid pink dress but I looked pretty. My sister was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed and a book in her hand. My father walked in all haughty and I was excited, he always brought presents and compliments.

I should've been prepared for disappointment, should've known he'd find something wrong with my dress or my hair. why aren't you wearing blush? he continued to pick at my clothing, the lack of straightness of her my hair and I froze. I wasn't use to such comments, I was always the perfect one...the favorite. Hell my sister got more compliments from my father that day and I grew angry. She had went against his wishes and worn blue instead of red, how did she get his favor? The party was an important one, the first one where my parent's had invited other people and was talker. My father had thought my soft-spoken sister would be better to hang with him and make an impression leaving me by lonesome.

I was late to my to own party by about six minutes, I had changed my stupid pink dress to a red one. It was simple, it stopped at my knees and had a black belt in the back into a big bow. There was a simple black ribbon in my straight red hair and I had foregone the make-up. Everyone was always telling me that I had natural beauty, that meant I didn't need make up. I hadn't yet realized my veela side kept my skin perfect. As soon as I reached the bottom step I had everyone's attention. I was introduced to daughters, sons and cousins, my father fell over himself introducing me to the people he was standing with. All his attention on me, my sister forgotten and that's when I knew. He didn't care for me, just what I could give him. I still smiled falsely, playing the part of the loving daughter. It was from that moment I was the favourite, it was also the moment my father lost all my love and respect. My mother soon followed and well both my sisters didn't understand.

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[IRENE ELAINE HAWTHORNE]

Age 7

I'm just 17 if you know what I mean
Do you mind if I take off my dress?

Summer was a particularly difficult thing for someone with a pale complexion, before I learned how to tan I put on endless amount of sunscreen to keep my skin safe. Thats not entirely relevant at the moment, it was a vacation to America. My father had some ties and of course he wanted to show off his perfect family. Like most kids I was excited and nervous, I hadn't been so far away from home before. Unfortunately I was one the only one who had gotten sick. Perhaps it was food poisoning or a fever I don't exactly remember but I wasn't up to company.

I've never seen my father so angry, apparently me being sick put a damper in his plans. My stuff was in ruin from his temper. He wanted a trophy to show off to charm his friends and broaden his circle. I literally felt like nothing more than a pretty face, something not worth caring about unless I was in pretty dress. My sisters were told to stay away from me least they get sick and a elf was my only company for the four days I was ill.

When I was better my father's attitude change, a shopping spree and a false apology later, I just took it all in stride. I found it pointless to cry over something I already knew. I wasn't created out if love but necessity. In order for my father to fit in he needed the perfect family. I don't know why but I just figured it would be easier to agree, she already learned to ignore her family's issue with how she dressed, walked and talked, she was her own person.

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[IRENE ELAINE HAWTHORNE]

age 8-13

Don't know where to start
Let me get to the good parts
Might wanna cross up your legs

As the years pass, I began to grow cold and not in temperature. Ice queen was more accurate, but I kept it hidden. My sisters could tell, I was always falling out with them. At school I was all claw and teeth, plans and unnoticed destruction until it was too late but I always managed to keep the cold away. I never wanted to be detached.

By age thirteen I had perfected my whole act, smile laugh, bat my eyelashes and never argue with my father. Unfortunately I was one of those who developed early, earlier than my twin. Of course my fathers solution was to change my wardrobe to clothes that showed off my figure. My one pieces were traded in for bikinis, my modesty was out the window and my hatred grew. My mother always told me that hiding my figure wouldn't get me anywhere, but I had to remain classy. Of course my father was always showing me off, I had danced with countless people at countless partners. The company in kept were all older than me by at least four years sometimes more.

My father had no problem with me getting closer to his business partner's sons, it made it easier to mix circles. I had always harboured a small amount of positive feelings for father but one night at party and a bunch of drunk aristocrats changed that. A couple of father's friends had gotten too drunk and their comments and leers had made my skin crawl. My father just ignored it while my mother smiled despite her worrying glances. I of course sat in the middle of the two creeps. A wandering hand on my leg and a slipped drink on white dress was enough to send me excusing myself and leaving for home.

My father of course felt as if I purposely destroyed the dinner and my mother told me to smile despite my discomfort. I was too tired to grow angry all I could feel was cold, it seeped in and stole all delusions of my father seeing me as anything but a trophy. The prick had invited his friends over for drinks and I was forced to sit and conversate until they were gone. I guess that was when it started, the need to hurt people, mostly guys. I just wanted to rid the world of scum....but at the same time all I knew was slick politicians with seedy smiles and a lust for young women.

That summer I turned my lip gloss in for red lipstick, my flats for pumps and my innocence for sin. I don't think I've ever felt more alive than first time I rode a motorcycle. Then again it might've been the thrill of sneaking out with boy who was sixteen. Three years wasn't that much, but a summer can change a person.

The school year that followed I was less worried about relationships and more worried about fun. I needed that rush, that warmth, I was always so cold. Every guy was a target, a warm body to keep the icy away from my heart. I always wonder if people realize I find a soft caress and quick peck on the cheek to be stupid.

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[IRENE ELAINE HAWTHORNE]

Age 14-15

I've got envy, I've got greed, anything that you need
And I'm not above having to beg
There was this boy who tore my heart in two
I had to lay him eight feet underground

At fourteen, I was wickedly satisfied and not by my life. My grades were good, my parents didn't suspect anything but my relationship with my sisters was strained. I couldn't stop hurting them in slightest ways. Nothing major just a few words or convincing lies. Mallory was finally feeling the pressure I've been feeling all my life and I can only pretend to care.

I began my interest in older guys, one that my father would never approve of. I had never been told no, that I couldn't have something or someone. I thrived off that, I always had control, I needed it or I grew angry and the coldness got worse.

At fifteen everything seemed to be normal until I decided to date this seventeen year old. He didn't understand that it was just a fling and. Things turned ugly, he wouldn't quit and a few angry words lead to me being pushed. I fell against my vanity manor and my wrist twisted in weird way to break my fall.

It wasn't the pain that bothered me it was the audacity of the whole thing. The anger, the feeling of losing control...I had to do something. He was found in his apartment, they said it was drug overdose...I faked some tears. Inside I was laughing, it wasn't my fault he had crosses the line.

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