Jane first tried to be a kind stepmother, even inviting me to her and Amy’s nail appointments. But as we grew older, they got closer, eventually shutting me out totally. “Maybe Amy’s just going through something,” my father observed as we went for ice cream, and I admitted. “Maybe she just needs extra time with her mom.” I learned to live with it, accepting that even though Jane referred to me as her daughter, I would not be one. Then came our senior year in high school, and prom soon became the social event of the year. I didn’t want to confess it to my father, but I was excited for prom.
Mason and I had officially started dating, and I knew the day would be beautiful. I also knew that, while my father would pay for my dream garment, I preferred to work for it myself. I reasoned that if Dad buys yours, he must also purchase Amy’s. So I worked additional shifts at the diner I worked at, anything to help me save for my dress. A few weeks before prom, I added babysitting to my schedule. I finally got enough money to buy my dream dress. Dad took me to the store and patiently waited as I tried it on. He beamed at me as I stepped out. “Oh, Elsa,” he remarked. “You look beautiful, darling.”
That’s all I needed from him. “Are you sure you want to pay for it yourself?” Dad inquired as to when we reached the cash register. “Because I’ll do it in a heartbeat.” I refused and paid for the dress.”But you can buy me a waffle,” I said, grinning. My ideal fantasy was ruined. A few hours later, I strolled inside the house after finishing my job at the diner. Amy and Jane were sitting in the living room, dusting down my grandmother’s silver teapot. With bits of my clothing. I screamed. “Honey,” Jane questioned, her face filled with concern.
“What’s wrong?” “That’s my dress!” I said, snatching up a piece. Oh!” Jane exclaimed. “It was your prom dress?” “You did this?” I questioned, unable to breathe properly. “Well, yes,” Jane replied smugly. “But I thought I was chopping up a secondhand outfit. It did not appear prom-worthy. So I decided to use it to polish the metal and windows. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I burst out crying, my tears falling quickly down my clothes. I heard Dad’s heavy footsteps somewhere in the house, but Jane clearly didn’t. Because she stood up and moved closer to me.
“Now, now, Elsa,” she stated. “You should have known better; you couldn’t be more lovely than Amy. Amy is taking the title of prom queen. “You can’t outshine her.” I glanced up at her, trying to figure out how she could be so terrible to me. I was no stranger to Jane, but she treated me as if she didn’t care about me at all. Perhaps she didn’t. But then her face turned paler. “What did you just say?” Dad demanded from behind me. My father’s fury became thick and heavy, and the room fell silent. “Did you do this, Jane?” he inquired.
He did not wait for a response. “I can fix it,” Jane stammered. Dad went into his and Jane’s bedroom, bringing a dress that was the same color as her custom wedding gown, but I knew it wasn’t the same outfit. He shredded the dress with his hands, and the sound of tears filled the silence. Jane shouted, obviously mistaking the outfit for her wedding gown. “Dad,” I murmured, hoping to calm him down. But my father simply shook his head. He tossed bits of the dress at her. “Fix this,” he stated. My father wasn’t nuts; he was furious, but there was no way he was going to rip up Jane’s wedding dress.
“I’m done,” he stated. “You can’t keep hurting my child.” My prom fantasies decreased following the confrontation. But I took a moment to think about what it meant to me. It was meant to be amazing. The thought of missing out, of being denied that experience because of an irrational act of jealousy, was more agonizing than I could articulate. On the day of prom, my father picked me up from school with a package in the car.
“It’s your dress, darling,” he explained. “Go have fun tonight. Now, let us get your hair done.” On the drive home, my father informed me that he intended to divorce Jane. “Elsa, I have been blind to her treatment of you for far too long. It’s finished now. “The future belongs to you and me, and the fights we’ll have about college,” he smiled.