Secretly Wishing

When her mother dies, the only thing Violet has is her father. He remarries. And he just so happens to marry the most popular girl's mother. But when a sudden, deadly disease has her father in the hospital all the time, Violet has to suffer in the wretched clutches of her stepmother. Violet has to find a way to get to that one event she desperately wants to attend. Prom.

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5. Frozen

'My mouth hangs open. The old woman searches my stunned face. Her gleaming blue eyes settles on mine, "Y-your eyes...they're awfully pretty. My daughter's daughter had beautiful violet eyes, just like yours." She turns to face the road. "Awfully pretty," she repeats in a low, throaty whisper. How should I say this?, I think, Hi grandma? "Uhhh, Ms. Rosa?" I stutter. "Yes Ms. Daniels?" she asks, with her eyes locked on the road. "Actually, my last name is..," I clear my throat, "Simon."  "How strange...that was my daughter's husband's last name," she nearly whispers. I couldn't take it anymore. "Ms. Rosa....I am your daughter's daughter, Violet Simon," I say loud and clear. The old woman turns to face me, "What?"  I take a deep breath and look striaght into the woman's clueless eyes. "When I was seven, my mother, Angie, died during pregnency. My father, George Simon, remarried to Donna Daniels, the pop icon from the eighties. She has a daughter, Chantele Daniels? Ring a bell?", I search her face for any hint of rememberance of the information. Rosa crinkles her eyebrows at me. "Violet?" she asks and pulls the car into a familiar parking lot. "Yes! Your remember me?" I rejoice. "I haven't seen you in nine years!" she gasps. "Actually, ten," I correct her with a smile spread across my face. "Oh, Violet," she wraps her arms around me. I hear sniffles at my shoulder. She dabs her blue eyes with a hankerchief that was buried in her pocket and shoos me away, "I'll pick you up later, no charge, I'll drop you off by eleven," she says. "Um...grandma?", I ask as I unbuckle. She shoves the damp hankerchief in her pocket on her jacket, "Yes?"  "Can I stay with you for the night? Donna won't be thrilled to see I haven't done my chores," I frown, begging with my wide eyes. "Why of course, honey," her leathery cheeks turn rosy. "Thank you, bye," I ask with a grin. "Wait! Do you have the money to pay for the Prom?" she asks with a hint of concern in her voice. A concern I have craved for ten years... "Just fifteen dollars for the ride, but you didn't want it so...," I say, pulling the money out of Chantele's old clutch. "Here, she digs around in her pocket and pulls out a neat wad of twenty dollars. "Oh, grandma," I whisper. "Keep it, all of it. I hear Donna's not the nicest creature," her blue eyes flicker with mischief. I thank her with a wide smile and head to the main entrance.

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