Mimi's cottage is located in a woodsy area,
but we only live about three miles from a small trading town. The residents prefer a bazaar type of market as opposed to traditional stores. Mimi even has her own stand that we manage.
Everyone in the market knows us,
so it's no surprise we get stopped by at least twenty people on the way in. The stone streets flood with consumers, eager to get their hands on all the products they can.
I'm not too tall though; I can barely see the stands.
As Mimi stops by the seed shop I watch the passing pedestrians. Sigh.
All these women are so beautiful.
Their scarves and dresses sway flawlessly in the breeze,. Obviously their children inherited their good looks and charms.
I hold up a piece of my hair to my face.
It definitely doesn't compare to anyone else's. I pull my hood far over my face. Nobody should have to see what a disgrace I am; I especially don't want them to judge Mimi for it.
We don't stay long. Mimi only needed a few things.
I barely say a word on the way back, wrapped up in my thoughts again.
"Something wrong, Rosie?"
I knew Mimi would notice eventually. Those motherly instincts of hers let nothing get by. I can't lie and say I'm alright; she knows everything. "And why is your hood over your face?"
I take a deep breath. I have to tell her the truth.
"I'm embarrassed of my looks."
Mimi stops so suddenly her hood falls off,
and her herbs almost become dinner for the forest creatures. Her bright eyes gaze into mine.
"Why are you embarrassed of you looks?"
Her tone is concerned, but there's no hiding the disappointment in her eyes. Mimi has always been proud of my looks; fascinated by my uniqueness. "There's never been anything wrong with them."
She frowns. "You haven't had an issue with them before."
"Why are you so quick to hide yourself all of a sudden?"
I reach behind my neck and pull out the flowing locks behind
I grab a piece resting on my shoulder and hold it up to Mimi's face. "Look at it."
She smiles as she runs her fingers through it like a comb.
"You have such thick, luscious locks, Rosie. Girls would kill to have hair like yours."
I frown as I let my hair fall. Mimi always says that.
I already know no girl would ever want hair like mine. Maybe if my hair was red, or blonde, or brown, or any "normal" hair color they would; but mine isn't.
Mine is the color of fresh snow on the first day of winter.
The purest, most untainted white ever found in nature. I always used to tell myself I was blonde, platinum blonde, but it's gotten lighter over the years. I've always has white strands in my eyes
"Roselyn," Mimi puts her bags down and gets on her knees.
Our eyes are level. "You're different, but that doesn't make you any less beautiful. Just because you haven't seen anyone with hair like yours doesn't mean you're not pretty. You're gorgeous."
I squeeze her tight as her arms wrap around me.
"Don't listen to what others say," Mimi whispers. "Normal isn't necessarily a good thing. When do you hear of ordinary things being this stunning?"