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The D-day
Lauren walked languidly out of the bathroom, a large towel wrapped around her fragile body. Her once empty vanity table was now half filled with body creams and what nots.
She hated this. She hated herself.
As she lowered herself onto the stool in front of the mirror, her eyes caught sight of her ringless fourth finger. In a matter of hours, she would become someone’s wife. No, not wife. Perhaps the word ‘prostitute’ was a better substitute. In a matter of hours, she would be tied to some skanky old man—for life.
A tear escaped her eyes.
Carefully, she began to massage Michelle’s cream all over her body. Grace had brought all of Michelle’s creams and make ups from Michelle’s room. According to her, she had to smell like Michelle in order not to be caught. After spending more than an hour on the vanity table, she got up, letting the towl fall off her body and proceeded to wear the clothes Grace had prepared f
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