I turned to the mirror in front of me and took a look at myself. My [hair colour] locks were perfectly curled, my cheeks were a little pink and my lips were red from make-up. The dress that I was wearing was black; it was close-fitting, it covered my arms and my neck, but let my legs be seen from the knees. I usually didn’t particularly like my appearance, but this time even I was pleased with the way I looked.
”Yes dad, I’m ready.” I answered and walked out of my room. My father was standing there in a suit that must have cost a fortune, waiting for me. He furrowed his eyebrows as he was observing my outfit.
”I don’t think I’ll let you be alone for a minute. You can’t dance with anybody, you know that?”
I rolled my eyes.
”You want to force me to listen to your dull conversations with those old men? No way.”
He laughed and took my arm.
”Of course not. But you’