It’s my 10th attempt at eyeliner this evening. My eyes water as I accidentally stab my pupil once again. I have to get it right. She never leaves the house without eyeliner. I’m more of a concealer and lip balm kind of girl. But eyeliner is essential to my costume. I restart the YouTube video again, and watch as the perky beauty blogger effortlessly lines her eyes. Heavy, smoky, dark. Words that seem to describe a hole in the wall bar instead of makeup, but to each her own. I finally finish the liner, fluff my fresh glossy blowout, and complete my look with red, matte lipstick, something else I never wear.
I zip myself into her little black dress, step into her high heels and wobble to the door when I hear the doorbell ring.
“Zara, you look great!” Brian greets me with a quick kiss on the lips, not realizing he’s just made all my dreams come true. My heart seems to leave my body and float away into the clouds.
“Thanks.” I blush. “Just let me grab my purse.”
I leave Brian in the foyer and rush back to the bedroom where my twin sister Zara is sleeping off this afternoon’s bender. I grab her clutch from the bedside table and move the trash can closer to the bed in case she gets sick again. I close the door behind me and stand taller in my shoes, trying to mimic her walk, feeling guilty for a second. Then I think of all the nights she’s left me behind, pitying me as she walked out the door, a night of mystery and excitement ahead of her.
It’s just for one night.
For Prompt Stomp