The early hours of the morning aren’t a time that you want to be getting ready for a funeral. I had only just woken up, and my miserable husband was already rushing me on, so he could see his sister’s dead body. He didn’t even want to be at the event. I, on the other hand, was looking forward to spending time with the family members that you only ever see when somebody has passed away, but I needed to make sure that I looked my worst for all of the people that were attending the best day of his sister’s life.
“Stop taking so long to put on your face,” my husband screamed from the bottom of the stairs. “I know those new cosmetics that I bought you are fantastic, but I really want to get out the house.”
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I replied, knowing that it was going to take a lot longer than sixty seconds to put on my face. “I’m going to look amazing in front of all of your family. The best looking out of the lot. You’ll love it when I walk down those stairs, and show you what I can do with some creative thinking.”
“I’m sure I will.”
I decided to start my early-morning make over with the first thing that I could find in my make-up bag. I pulled out a skull shaped container that had the word “Poison” engraved onto the lid, and let out a small squeak of excitement. The powder looked expensive, and I knew that the final results were going to be incredible. I opened the container, inhaled the putrid scent that came from inside of it and smudged the brush into the box. A few dabs onto my left cheek, a couple on the right one, and I was finished. I lifted my head to the mirror to see the effects of “Poison”. It made me look like freak, and it boosted my confidence even more than expected.
“Have you finished?” roared my husband. “We’ve really got to go.”
“I told you, I’ll be down in a minute. My image is very important to me.”
I shrugged off the constant whines from my impatient partner and continued with decorating my face. I dived into my cosmetics bag to look around to see what else my husband had bought me. What did I want to put on next? Moisturizer? Eyeshadow? Lipstick? After spending a few minutes making a solid decision, I decided on using the sinister looking lipstick that was hidden in the depths of the bag. I pulled off the lid to the container that had the words “Maleficent Black” written on it, and allowed the murky chalk to touch my mouth. I adored the title of my lipstick so much and knew that I was the perfect candidate for wearing it on my “Poison” covered face. I slid the chalk across my top lip and looked to my mirror. The flesh from my cheeks had started to decay. The “Poison” was doing wonders for my skin, and I could now see my teeth through the manholes that had been created in my face. Whilst mustering a ginormous grin, that revealed my teeth even more, I continued to use “Maleficent Black”. One swipe on the top lip, and one on the bottom. I was on my way to becoming the star of the funeral. All I had to do was put on the rest of my face, and I’d look like the worst person in the room of the corpse worshippers.
“You’ve got two more minutes,” yelled my husband. “I’m going to die if I’ve got to wait any longer.”
“I’ve got one more thing to put on, and then I’ll be down,” I replied. “I really mean it this time around. I’m looking better than I have in years. This is the greatest present you’ve ever bought me.”
Time was starting to get on, and I didn’t want to leave my beloved husband waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I rummaged inside my cosmetics bag to search for one last thing that could make me look more artificial. I couldn’t decide what I wanted to put onto my face, so I pulled any random object out. I was rewarded with an eyelash comb that would cause anybody who stared into my eyes to fall to the floor in fear of me. This blackened stick of sorrow was known as the “Ghoulash Comb”. It was the must have item of the year, and I couldn’t wait to test it out. I placed the comb onto my eyelashes, and as I was about to brush my lids, I noticed a part of my lip fall into the “Poison” powder. I chuckled to myself as I watched the flesh staring at me from the pot, and then continued to make my eyelashes look beautiful. Beginning with the right eye. Swipe number one went smoothly, the second wasn’t too stressful on the hairs. On the third brush my comb caught onto my lashes, and I pulled it away from my face. I yanked my eyeball out of its socket, and watched it roll onto the dressing table. This caused me an agonising distress, but I loved the pain so much that I decided to do the same with the left eye.
“Honey, I’m leaving.”
I left all of the items from my cosmetic bag on the table, and made an attempt to leave the bedroom. My husband continued to yell at me, as I scurried around the room like a confused zombie. I placed my hands on what I believed to be the casing to the doorframe, and walked onto the landing to confront my partner. I couldn’t see my husband, but I could sense his eyes fixating on my new image. I remained at the top of the stairs to model the new cosmetics that he had brought me. The constant yells came to a stop, and I heard a loud crash.
“Baby, do you think I look fantastic?”