the pageant queen

Here's another unpublished short story from eight years ago. This one is not autobiographical, but it could be based on a true story of an eight year old's traumatized imagination. Maybe mine. Maybe not. You can make anything you don't understand mean anything you want it to.

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THE PAGEANT QUEEN

The little girl didn't like being in beauty pageants, but she disliked disappointing her mother even more. Oh, how the mother could guilt trip like no other, and the little girl often thought it was better to be passive than attempt to stand up to her mother. It just wasn't worth disappointing her. She knew no one could out-victim her mother. Even as a small child the girl had enough wisdom to understand that.

Up until this point, the little girl had spent her whole life trying to be the daughter her mother wanted her to be. But it was hard to be the perfect daughter for a few good reasons, the first being that the little girl was quite possibly the absolute polar opposite of her mother. The other reason was that the little girl was rather unfortunate looking. The other children were never outright mean to her, but they didn't go out of their way to include her in their circles either.

Every year when her classmates would vote for homecoming representative or class favorite, her mother would urge her to win. Even the little girl knew this was absurd. The only way this would ever be possible would be to mentally control the minds of the other children and force them to vote for her. Aside from selling her soul to the devil, it was impossible. 

She felt the familiar pit in her stomach. She dreaded the thought of going home and telling her mother the news of, yet again, another loss.

"What do you mean Nicole was voted homecoming again this year? What is so hard about you getting voted for once? Don't you want to make me happy and get picked for a change? Are you even trying? Do you even care about my feelings? It's not fair that the same mothers get to feel so proud of their children every year, and I'm always let down again and again. None of my children love me. I give up everything and for what?"

The dumb little girl loved her mother very much, or at least she thought this was love, and she wanted to make her mother proud very badly. It was also obvious that the mother loved her daughter, or at least the idea of a daughter, maybe a different one more like she had imagined. She just happened to love herself more.

In the Spring when the beauty walk rolled around, the little girl decided to take a stand and politely requested that she not participate this year.

"Mama, I know how much you enjoy it when we get to go shopping for a dress and how excited you get for the beauty walk, but I just don't like it the way you do. I don't like having to stand in front of everyone and be judged. It makes me feel weird, like I want to crawl out of my skin, and I feel like I'm always making you sad when I don't place at all."

The mother fell down on the floor and burst into theatrics. It must have been taxing on the little girl, growing up with a narcissist for a mother.

"I give and give around here, and no one appreciates it. Don't you love me? All I want is for you to love me. But you never show me. All I want is to buy you a beautiful dress and sign you up for the beauty walk. I just want you to win, so we can show everyone else that they are no better than you. Every year we see the smug faces of the other mothers, but I know it's your time to shine! Please, don't do this to me. Just show me how much you love me by signing up."

And just like every other time in the young girl's life that her mother had her mind set on something, the girl knew she really had no choice in the matter.

The little girl was aware that no matter what her dress and hair looked like, the only way she would win was by default if she was the only participant. She had gappy teeth and thick glasses. It was just a childhood problem that could be fixed as she matured, and surely one day she would grow into her looks. But participating in a ritual that judged your worth on your appearance, well, she knew she was way out of her element.

It is sad, but even though this is a story about a "young girl," young children don't remain children for long anymore. Instead of playing with toys, children are taught to read and write. Instead of playing outside, they are placed in front of screens and electronics. And so, at the young age of eight, the girl did an internet search for "how to poison someone." She was no rookie to internet searches, having previously googled "why am i so ugly" and "why can i never make my mom happy."

The weeks passed. A poofy dress that looked more at home on a porcelain doll was bought, and for the entire week before the pageant, the mother practiced a dress rehearsal with the little girl.

The day of the beauty walk arrived and the little girl and mother arrived at the concert hall to prepare. Because the little girl usually kept to herself, the mother was very pleased that she had baked cupcakes to bring for her competition. Of course the other mothers would only allow their daughters a bite or two of the cupcakes, giving various excuses. "Oh, Susie is watching her weight." "We don't allow dyes in our house." Or "These aren't gluten free." But even today's grown up children love sweets, and so each girl (and a few mothers) snuck bites when no one was looking.

The girls walked out one by one, twirling and smiling for the judges. The little girl did the best she could do, not so gracefully saving herself from a tumble when she tripped over an electric cord. Her mother wouldn't allow her to wear her glasses, which she so desperately needed, and she was all but blind without them. She looked out and all she could see were stage lights blasting into her eyes. She did her twirl and curtsy and headed backstage.

It was almost time for all the girl's to walk out together for one final scoring, when the little girl heard someone groaning from the back of the dressing room.

"Oh. I have the worst cramps right now. I need to lie down for a bit."

A few other girls nodding in agreement, while another ran to a garbage can and proceeded to puke.

"Gross! Nasty! That smells horrible!," rang out a chorus from the youngsters. The little girl suppressed a giggle when one of the mothers offered up the suggestion that the flu had finally caught up with them.

Two of the girls had to sit out during the final walk, leaving only eight remaining.

The eight girls walked out single file. Later on, the judges would admit that a few of them looked a little green to the gills, and one of them stood with her legs twisted like she had to use the bathroom badly.

Suddenly one girl threw up at stage left. This caused an immediate domino effect and three other girls began barfing in various directions. The audience sat, mortified, as they watched these pretty little girls tossing their cookies everywhere. Vomit dripping down their powdered faces and spewing all over each others dresses. A few of the mothers were squirming in their seats, in a vain attempt to quiet their stomachs.

Another girl ran to a flower pot that decorated the stage, and used it as a makeshift toilet. The little girl couldn't see much of anything other than a flurry of pastel color rushing by her, but she could smell the foul odor of intestinal discomfort. Two other girls made a mad dash back stage, leaving a trail of wet fecal matter behind them.

And there she was, the young girl. The only one left on stage, with the biggest smile on her face. Having been unable to receive their final scores, surely the other girls would be disqualified. The young girl had to win this year. Her mother would be so proud.