Memory #1
I walked down the isle at my aunt Lynn's wedding. Tim and the priest were waiting at the end, surrounded by the rest of the family. Everyone was so dressed up, including me, but I felt superior in my moment. I was the flower girl. Nobody else; not my sister, Lynn's daughter, or any of the other cousins. Tim convinced Lynn to choose me. Me, of all the cousins. I was allowed to choose between a beautiful assortment of children's white dresses, and I chose the one that suited my job perfectly. I only had one job: set the path for my aunt to follow, and it was easily my favorite chore ever.
Ever since I was told I'd be the flower girl in Tim's wedding, I always tried my hardest to be taller, smarter, prettier, and more. Just to be the best. I had to do this flawlessly, or the whole wedding would be ruined. I had my basket of flowers, and I threw them effortlessly along the red, lacey carpet. Tim smiled at me, warmly, then looked over my head to something I didn't see yet.
Lynn walked gracefully down the aisle, in her long, white dress. Her beautiful black hair was drawn into a rose bun, with a long veil covering her face. Her eyes and mouth were covered in makeup, making her at least twenty times more astonishing than she already looked. Her eyes, with the classic asian sinch at the edges, shed a small tear as she walked past me after I sat down in the reserved seat for me once I finished my moment.
A boy with blonde, fluffy hair and icy blue eyes smiled at my from the chair next to me, with a small thumbs up to tell me I did good. I felt like I did amazing and terrible at the same time. A slight stinging in my back, which I assumed to be from my dress being tight, escalated to a nagging pain. I didn't do anything about it, since I didn't want to ruin the wedding. It almost felt like something was cutting into my skin, oddly. I tried unzipping the back a little to itch it, but I couldn't reach it. As I watched the wife-to-be hold her future husband's hands, I felt that I lacked that warmth. I secretly made a wish to heaven that I could find someone perfect for me, just like Tim was perfect for Lynn.
The priest's speech came to a halt, so I payed attention to that, trying to ignore the agony from what I thought to be my back.
I watched as Tim and Lynn said their vows, a beautiful moment to witness. Just as the priest said "You may kiss the bride", my vision faded off into a blank cloud once again…
Memory #2
I clutched my dad's hand as I walked into the magical land called "Cheesecake Factory". It was my 8th birthday, and I had only barely been convinced to not take my new barbie with me to this spectacular place. The air was crisp, with the scent of desserts in the slight air conditioning breeze. People talked loudly about life and celebration throughout the restaurant.
As my father was talking to the hostess about the wait times, I slipped my earplugs in to quiet the deafening noise of the crowded building. He always hated when I used my earplugs that uncle Tim gave me. He said it was "cowardly" to admit to needing them and I shouldn't act like a coward.
As the waiter walked us to our table, I noticed a little girl my age pointing at me and saying something, but with my earplugs in I didn't know what she said. I assumed it was -about- the earplugs, as most comments towards me were. My back hurt so bad from wearing my backpack all day at school, especially with my show and tell items in my bag for my birthday. It only got worse as I walked through what seemed to be an endless maze of tables and people, like one of those loop videos.
Once we arrived at the table, I asked for a Dr. Pepper, my favorite soda, and my dad got some weird yellow juice with a lime in it. He gave me the lime without me even having to ask if I could have it. I looked at the decorated tile ceilings as I sucked on the lime, letting its citrusy sour flavor rush through my mouth and throat. My dad tapped my shoulder and motioned for me to take out my earplugs. I did as I was told, and he started to talk about how I needed to stop depending on them, because I won't be able to wear them forever, and I was 8 now, so I needed to mature myself and stop being such a coward to noise.
I zoned out almost immediately and started wondering what I was going to order for dinner. I really wanted pizza, but I doubted my dad would let me, especially after giving me yet another talk. After about 3 minutes of questioning my existence, I finally decided on just basic chicken strips, because you really can't go wrong with that.
We ate in basically silence. My dad munched on his burger without making eye contact, while I barely touched my fries after eating only what was needed for it to be socially acceptable. I glanced back and forth at the floor tiles and imagined them being faces and having a conversation. "Pass the scalpel." "Anesthesia's wearing off! Tim…"
I guessed these faces were playing doctor today. I ignored the odd reference to my uncle that those floor doctors made, and browsed the dessert menu, praying that my father would let me get something. He knew I loved chocolate strawberries, so I hoped he'd let me get a similar tasting slice of cheesecake. It was my birthday, after all.
After my father and I finished our food, he told the waiter it was my birthday and the type of cheesecake I'd like. Strawberry, with nutella sauce, and extra sprinkles. As I blew out the candle, I licked the sauce which wrote "Happy Birthday!" off my finger. The pain in my back suddenly became so unbearable and I felt like I was about to faint…