It was the day of my cousin’s 23rd birthday party. “What to wear?” I ask as I open my dark closet in hopes that there was something at least semi-formal I could wear. Why Elizabeth was having a large formal party for her 23rd birthday was beyond my knowledge. All I knew was that I had to be there and I had to be dressed “nicely”. “How am I supposed be dressed ‘nicely’ if I don’t even own anything what in most common people would define as ‘nice’?” My wardrobe consists of slightly worn out black pants and random t-shirts that I have obtained over the past few years of my life in which I have stopped growing.
                 “Hmm, I guess that’ll do.” I pulled out a black dress that I didn’t even remember even having. It was buried in the back of the closet behind some dusty boxes. It must have been pretty old seeing I didn’t even remember when I had put those boxes in there. “I hope it fits.” It looked pretty small, but I was a small person. However, the dress did not look like it would fit. I figured I might as well put it on because the party was only in a few hours.
                I didn’t even want to go to the party. It didn’t even sound like I’d have fun. I’m the youngest of everyone in my family and all Liz’s friends never talked to me anyway. “Oh why don’t you just go play hopscotch you kid?” they would yell at me if I were to even try talking to them. One, I’m no kid and two; I’ve never even wanted to play hopscotch when I was a kid. Seventeen and I’m still a kid to them. Where in the world did they get the idea that seventeen was considered kid? Yes, I am six years younger than them, but that didn’t stop me from growing up. Granted, it seems like they never grew up. - Whatever, back to the dress.
              Plop. The dress slipped right on. “Huh, and I thought it wouldn’t fit.” Was I really that small? The dress had a diagonal cut at the bottom slightly below the knees and had spaghetti straps. It seemed really plain so I pinned my red rose brooch underneath were the strap connected to the rest of the dress. My mother gave me the rose when I was ten before she died from the after affects of an explosion at her work. No one knows the cause of the explosion, but it is suspected that someone was trying, and succeeded, in murdering one of my mother’s coworkers for an unknown motive. That was a dramatic time in my lifetime. Father was a drunk and rarely home and my only sober parent was dead. By that point my whole outlook on life was pessimistic and I didn’t plan on changing it either. Everything started going wrong from there on.
               “Blah, I hate this.” I say as I continue to attempt to get ready. “Gah!” Something was missing and I didn’t know what it was. The thought came by me that it might be because my hair seemed plain. My hair was black, slightly below my shoulders, and naturally straighter than any straightening iron could ever make hair. It was just there like it had no purpose other than to cause my annoyance. I grabbed my favorite red ribbon and tied it into my hair like a headband. Something was still missing. “Whatever, it’s just one night. Who’s going to care anyway? No one ever does.” I say while putting on my old black heels and deciding that this night was going to be horrible.

           At this point, you wonder then, “How do I survive? How do I manage?” Truth is, I don’t know. I have a small paying job along with being a full time student. Father is out most of the time so I am in charge of paying for a lot of necessities and my older sister pays for the house and car. Jesi tried taking the role of mom when our mother pasted away. She was fifteen at the time and was extremely emotionally hurt by the incident. I kept trying to convince Jesi that I was able to be independent and she didn’t have to play the full role of mother, but she kept insisting. I guess it was her way of dealing with the pain of losing our only sober parent. Eventually, I couldn’t stand her change that I blocked myself out of most conversation with her. I would be short, to the point, and on the surface. Jesi didn’t need to know what was going on him my life. She really didn’t. No one did, no one does. My life was better left unsaid.

             “Cossie! Are you ready? We are getting late! Elizabeth wanted us at the banquet hall a half hour ago!” Jesi yelled down the hall to my room.
               “I’m coming Jes.” I sigh as I grabbed my bag as I walked out of my room. Cossie. I hated when she called me that. It reminded me of Mother. The name that appears on my birth certificate is Cosette Faith Jacobson, however, Mother always called me Cossie for short. I never liked this name, Cossie. I don’t know why, but the name gave me a weird vibe in which I did not find amusing. Whenever I got a chance, I made sure that people would not shorten Cosette no matter how unusual the name was. I liked it better than Cossie.
                I walked down the hall without saying a word and entered the front room. “MEOW!” My cat name Pooh came out from under the couch. He was a black cat with some white on the bottom of his face and belly.
             “Hey Pooh, what do you want?” I asked him as I lifted him up to hug him and covering myself in his fur.
               “Mew?” He goes.
               “Food?” I asked him again as if he could actually respond with an actual answer. “Of course it is food. You always want food. You are one fat kitty.” I exclaim as I put her back on the couch.
               “COSSIE!” Jesi yelled at me again.
                “Coming! Let me feed the freaking cat!” I yell back. Jesi was already out by the car and waiting. I filled Pooh’ s bowl with a small cup of cat food and headed out of the door to the car. The next fifteen minutes all that was heard was the soft sound of the car engine.
                We arrived at the banquet hall and Liz came out to rudely greet us. After all, we were forty-five minutes late to the hall. We were supposed to be there and hour early to help set up the tables. She and her mom had to set “everything” up by themselves. Oh gosh. “Everything” is a lot. All they had to do was place premade table settings and centerpieces onto the tables and place some cups out for the drinks. What is so hard about that? It’s not like they had to put up the balloons, tables, or even make the food. The owners of the banquet hall did that.
                Jesi and I got out of the car and went inside. A few early birds were already there sitting, talking, and enjoying themselves. I had never seen them before so I figured they were some of Liz’s newer friends from college. They pretty much ignored me as soon as they saw me, so I decided to go and sit at a table on the other side of the room near the fireplace. I sat down and looked around contemplating on how long this night was going to be. The room was a fairly large sized room with a nice dance floor. Silver and navy blue balloons covered a majority of the ceiling and streamers lined the walls.
                “Now what?” I thought to myself. More guests were starting to arrive and the DJ started to play some music softly in the background. “One day I’m gonna find a feeling that's right, but I wonder what'd it’d be like to be someone else for one day.” I haven’t heard the song in a long time. I missed it.