I dolled myself up the way Akua liked. I knew I interested her and I wasn’t above playing that angle. She was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, even without vampiric hypnosis to convince me. I tied the silk top with the blue ribbon belt attached to the midriff, pulling the printed fabric tight against my bare skin. With my push up bra I almost looked like I had breasts worth ogling, though it was almost one hundred percent illusion. I wore the shortest skirt I thought I could get away with, though it made me feel exposed and vulnerable. And in no small part turned on, which I prefer not to be in public.
I avoided the back of my closet where I’d stuffed all my old regalia. I couldn’t bear to throw it away, even if it was sized for the little girl I’d long since grown out of. Faint memories of my aunts surfaced, their laughs, the way Aunt Jessie Glistening-On-Water always wore thick purple eyeshadow that I loved so much. Anything deeper than that remained frustratingly out of reach, and as I leaned over the sink to get closer to the mirror so I could put mascara on I almost twitched and left a black mark on my cheek. Damn that accident. Hell, then again maybe it was better that I didn’t remember much.
I was getting better at walking in heels and I put on the highest pair I could get away with. I managed to make my way out in to the living room. I paused to look at the eagle picture I had there, over the T.V., that dad had insisted I have. I figured it was the Native version of pictures of Jesus, like when you went to a Catholic’s house and his beady little eyes followed you everywhere.
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