It was 7 pm. Her friend and her Dad had come to pick her up. She walked down the stairs in her new jeans and a touch of eyeshadow. She’d saved up for weeks to buy it and tonight’s party was the reason why. As she reached the door, her mother stopped her
“What’s that on your eyes?”
From the tone of her voice she knew her mother didn’t approve.
“What will people say?”
A dense grey fog of guilt descended on her. Make up, short skirts, large necklines, smoking, laughing out loud were the marks of a “bad girl”. The kind of girl the neighbour’s would nudge and stare at. Who’d never find a good match to marry. Who’d bring her family shame. The voices in her head were suddenly silenced.
“I don’t know. I won’t be listening” she replied and waved out to the car that was at the gate.
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