Thankful

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My eyes traveled up my image. My hips were too narrow, my waist too thick even though I was a skinny rail. My shoulders were too pronounced even when hidden under the large, white square collar. When I got to my face I saw that my glasses were far too out of place on the one thing I could somewhat imagine to be a girl's. Taking them off didn't help anything as my vision was far too poor to see beyond my nose. With a sigh I retreated back to the closet to look for something more promising, but nothing really availed itself.

Thankful
by Buggie

'This could well be my last summer to do this,' echoed inside my head as I struggled to get to sleep. Outside my bedroom door the house had settled down. My parents were in the room next to mine and I listened as my father's snoring calmed down into a more restful sleep. My mother, if she hadn't been able to go to sleep before my father, would now be putting her book away and settling in to go to sleep herself.

With a start I awoke from a dream that slipped from my consciousness. My heart raced as I silently grabbed my clock to check the time. Focusing my sight, I could make out that it was around 2:30 AM. With a sigh I placed the clock back on the shelf and felt for my glasses. Those glasses meant I could never really pull off any disguise I might conjure up unless I also hid my face under something that also hid my glasses. They were that little something that always brought a little sadness when they reminded me who I was.

Gently I eased myself out of bed. I didn't bother with the extravagant slowness that I had exercised the night before, but rather I aimed for making a quick and brief squeak as the bed shifted underneath instead of the painfully slow and drawn out series of squeaks as the bed protested. I pulled my shorts on, slipped on my shirt, and made my way out of the open door through the house to the patio door. Listening for any signs of detection, I waited cautiously for a moment. Carefully, I slid the broom handle barring the door out of the track and unlocked the large glass patio door, softly sliding it open to allow me to slip through. Closing it gently, I then grabbed my flip flops on the patio and headed for the pool deck, sitting on a lounge chair to look up at the sky.

It was mid-summer, a time I enjoyed not so much for the freedom it brought from school, but for the warmer weather. I never did enjoy the cold. It privately amused me that even at seventy-four degrees I felt cold right now. I was used to the one hundred plus temperatures of the daytime, not the night time lows. I watched the stars overhead, picking out the various constellations. It was a waiting game right now. If for some reason anyone in the house had heard me get up, then they would find me watching the stars and I could excuse myself as not being able to sleep. It also accustomed to me to the nighttime sounds around me. We lived in the country in the backend of a failed residential development. The hill our house was on was the third largest hill in the area. Wrapping through those hills were the asphalt roads that connected us all. As always, it was quiet. No one around here did anything after dark. The parents stayed home, their children (if any) were too young to be out at night. The one house that did have a daughter in college I didn't have to worry about as she wouldn't have stayed in this country hell when she could have been in the college town having fun.

It was safe. I made my way boldly through the night to the house that shared our hill. It was a huge monstrosity built by a man who had more money then he should have. An extravagant spender, he had made this his dream home for his family. They had a pool, which finally prompted my parents to build a small one, a large tractor to mow their acres of land, and a boat. The boat was gone at the moment; the entire family off on a four day vacation which gave me my opportunity. The day before I had captured the key and set up a way in. On the far side of the house was a small window that led into the home office. The screen had been broken by their son and never replaced, giving me a way to unlock during the day, open at night, and crawl into their home. With a small towel I had picked up from the pool area, I cleaned the grass from my feet and shut the window behind me.

The house was huge and had four children's rooms towards the front. Away from his sisters, the son's room was right beside the home office. Past the entry way, visitor's bathroom, and dining room was my goal. Of the three daughters, hers was the only one I was really interested in. The mother was a heavy set and short woman, their oldest daughter was about my height, but heavy too. The youngest was only a little kid, but the middle daughter was a year younger then me. Slipping into her room, I flipped the light on in her shared bathroom to give me enough to see by, but not enough to be seen from outside. I had been here the night before, though I didn't have as much time then. But I was able to go through her things and get an idea of what would fit me.

Carefully I went through her underwear trying not to disturb it much, hoping this time that I would find something more tantalizing then cotton, but she was young and unable to buy anything on her own. Her mother didn't agree with the silk and lace delights that I had imagined and dreamed about. Generally reality is far less then my desires. The only plus I found were some fishnet hose that she had used in some dance recital. In her closet I went through her shelves and hangers. She was a typical country girl, having plenty of shorts and jeans, but few nice outfits or dresses and skirts. I was disappointed. Here I was all ready to go and with nothing to wear.

With my selections I got dressed in her panties, fishnet hose, and small bra. I knew that regular nylons would stretch and be obvious when someone found them, but the fishnet I wasn't sure about. I figured even if I did stretch them out from their shrunken state that she would never notice unless she went to wear them again. Given it was 'her' and they were for her old dance outfit, I figured that would never happen. The one or two pairs of nylons though would be obvious. I put on two half-slips (the only two she had) for that extra tingle and then slid the long cotton black dress over my head. Zipping up the back, I went into the bathroom and checked myself out in the mirror. Even with the bra padded out, I didn't look anything like a real girl, but that didn't stop me. The dress was extremely plain and unflattering. It was part of a costume so I didn't complain too much. I then tied the long white apron around my waist, making a horrible bow in the back. Over my shoulders I placed the white collar and tied it at my neck. On my head I slid the white bonnet and tied it under my chin. Now the mirror showed something more promising: a Thanksgiving Pilgrim Girl.

My eyes traveled up my image. My hips were too narrow, my waist too thick even though I was a skinny rail. My shoulders were too pronounced even when hidden under the large, white square collar. When I got to my face I saw that my glasses were far too out of place on the one thing I could somewhat imagine to be a girl's. Taking them off didn't help anything as my vision was far too poor to see beyond my nose. With a sigh I retreated back to the closet to look for something more promising, but nothing really availed itself. I'm not sure why, but I found myself unable to resist my impulses. I walked out of the house and onto the front walk. I was pulled deep into insanity as I found myself walking further and further away from my hill, along the asphalt road through the countryside. I traveled down my hill, across the creek, and up the long hill. With nervous looks towards the distant homes, knowing that anyone who happened to look out of their homes towards where I walked would have been able to see me quite clearly, I hesitantly marched passed old man Drucker's house with his bright mercury street light showing my pilgrim self walking along to any who cared to glance my way. In time and a few hills later I came to the last intersection with the main road. A long driveway up the tallest hill to my right and before me the main road bottomed out through the swampy area before rising sharply to the farm-to-market road. The stars shone upon me, the houses stayed quiet ignoring my insanity. At that moment I realized how stupid I was, having put off that realization as long as I could sustain that insane impulse to walk all this way. My mind thought of all the things I could do or say if I were to be caught now, out here far away from home. There wasn't anything I could really do to lie about why I was dressed in my neighbor's pilgrim-girl dress and perhaps that is why I did it.

If a car came along now I didn't have anywhere to go. They would see me on the road and if I tried to go off the road I was sure to be spotted anyway unless I had a deep ditch or very high and thick weeds to melt into. Doing that though would leave me with a very dirty pilgrim's outfit that I couldn't have cleaned before it was discovered. I could imagine right now that my parents, having awakened for some unknown reason, were now searching for me and when I topped the hill by old man Drucker's I would see the lights at home like a beacon of a lighthouse and know that my ship would have to return and crash into those rocks along the shore.

But I was safe. No one saw me that I know of. Not once did I see or hear a car in the stillness of the night. No house had any light change from off to on as near as I could tell. I made it back to the neighbor's and did my best to put everything back the way it was. I made my way out of the house through the window, shutting it behind me to walk within the dew laden grass. As my bed complained as I returned under the cover, my heart continued to beat wildly in my chest. My mind continued to dream and desire that which I could never have.

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Comments

Powerful!

A powerful first contribution that rings with truth. Welcome on board. Congratulations, Daphne

Daphne

Nicely Written

Reads like a true-to-life adventure. If it is, you've done a great job of capturing the feeling of it. If it isn't, I don't know what to say other than you must be a great writer!

Wow!

joannebarbarella's picture

It's where we were all coming from. How well portrayed!