chapter 3- shopping
The following morning, the routine of my awakening shifted from the familiar sound of Kreacher's footsteps to the gentle presence of my mother standing by my bedside. It was a departure from the norm, one that immediately piqued my curiosity. In our household, such deviations often signaled either a special occasion or an unexpected event. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead for the day. I greeted my mother, noting the absence of our loyal butler. It was an oddity in itself, as Kreacher was usually the one responsible for waking us up each morning with his unwavering punctuality. But today, it seemed, the task fell upon my mother's shoulders. Though such occurrences might be considered mundane for most families, in ours, they carried an air of intrigue. “Good morning, Mother," I said, my voice still laced with drowsiness. "What's the occasion?" My mother returned my greeting with a gentle pat on the shoulder, her expression betraying a hint of excitement. "No occasion," she replied. "We simply have some errands to run today."
Errands? That was unusual. In our household, most tasks were delegated to our staff, leaving my brother and me free to focus on our studies and leisure activities. The prospect of accompanying my mother on errands, therefore, presented a welcome break from our usual routine.
As I rose from my bed and began to prepare for the day ahead, my mind buzzed with anticipation. What sort of errands could my mother have in store for us? Would it be a trip to visit relatives, perhaps, or an business meeting? I just really hoped that we weren’t visiting relatives. They weren’t exactly… fond of me and my brothe.
Once dressed and ready to go, I joined my mother in the hallway, where she awaited me with a smile. Together, we made our way downstairs to the garage, where our family's collection of luxury vehicles sat gleaming in the morning light. My mother's choice of the Rolls Royce for our excursion only added to the sense of anticipation that hung in the air.
As we set off towards our destination, my mother remained characteristically tight-lipped about our plans for the day. It wasn't until we arrived at the bustling shopping center that I finally caught a glimpse of what lay ahead. The sight of the bustling crowds and vibrant storefronts filled me with excitement, and I couldn't wait to explore all that the mall had to offer.
Our first stop was the clothing stores, where my mother wasted no time in selecting an array of outfits for me to try on. As I browsed through the racks, I couldn't help but marvel at her impeccable taste. Each garment was incredibly expensive, feminine and covering. Ughh. Really only my mother would buy plain long pink skirts. FOR 500 POUNDS. But as the hours passed and looing for clothes “worthy enough for a child of the house of blacks” wore on, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to our outing than met the eye. It wasn't until we arrived at the makeup store that the truth finally came to light.
"Lucida, darling," my mother said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "You're growing up, and it's time for you to start embracing your femininity."
I blinked in surprise, unsure of what she meant. Hadn't I always been feminine enough? In my opinion even a little to feminine. If given the choice I would cut my hair short. But as my mother began to explain her intentions, I realized that there was more to her words than met the eye.
"You're nearly fourteen now, my dear," she continued in a harsh voice. "And soon, you'll be entering womanhood. It's important for you to start taking pride in your appearance, and that includes wearing makeup. You will start with it tomorrow"
I felt a surge of mixed emotions at her words. On one hand I didn’t want to. Really didn’t want to. Why should I take an hour in the bathroom only to be seen as tempting and likeable to my parents friends and their sons. On the other hand, fear. I knew if I didn’t want to bring me or my brother in danger I had to obey my mother and start wearing makeup. So I nodded in agreement.
As always my mother chose what make up we bought. Probably to make sure that it reached her standard and was fitting for a girl my age. To my surprise there laying was a black eyeliner in between the different beauty products that my mother had chosen for me. Knowing that my brother would love it I suggested to her surprise that we could buy more eyeliners. My argument was that the male heirs of rich and noble houses often loved bold but modest eye make up on girls. Walburga didn’t realise that I in fact had just made that up, so she added a white, a cherry red, a dark blue and a violet eyeliner to the chart.
As we made our way home later that evening, I couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. I knew that with me starting to become a young lady my mother would gain more and more control over me. I didn’t even want to grow a female breast, generally my body changing like this. And my brother is going against our parents’ beliefs too. But in the end, I just want my parents to be proud of me so I will make them proud of me.