Little Black Dress

Her hand smoothed down the black velvet of the dress’s skirt as she smiled at the texture. She had so many pleasant memories of that dress, of all the times she had worn it out to parties and pageants and things of that sort.

She had loved that little black dress, loved the way the neckline lay in folds across the span of her shoulders, loved how the back had woven itself together the way it did. She loved the length of it, that perfect party length just below her knees, loved the way the fabric flowed whenever she moved in it.

But the girl in it now was not moving as sporadically as the dress’s previous owner had. She was still, oh-so still, and her face was a mask of calm as she laid there and waited for everyone else to get a move on.

She had asked for this dress, asked so many times that her sister had finally given in and let her wear it, just once, to a dance that her school was throwing. She had loved seeing her little sister in it, seeing the way it looked on her, like a completely different dress from when she wore it.

It had suited her so well, she had been planning to let her keep it, to let her take on the black velvet mantle and wear it whenever and wherever she pleased.

She had never gotten the chance.

Now it would be the only thing she wore, the only outfit they could all agree on to let her sleep for eternity in. But it suited her, the soft black velvet of the dress offset by her ivory skin and the white satin of the coffin’s lining.

The skirt did not sway the way it once had; the woven back was hidden from how her little sister was laid out, and the folds that spanned between her shoulders looked oddly flat as she laid still and stiff in the coffin’s cool embrace.

It was unnatural, to see a girl so young laid out like this, but Death favored no one, not the young or the beautiful or the kind, and it was only a matter of time before they all ended up like this, wearing their favorite clothes and dressed up for all their loved ones to say goodbye to.

Her hand smoothed down the black velvet of the dress’s skirt as she smiled at the texture. She had so many pleasant memories of that dress, but they were all ruined now that she had seen her little sister wearing it to her own funeral.

She took a deep breath, whispered a goodbye to the little girl in the coffin, and shut the lid with a snap. There were more important things to do than mourn a life that had been as bright as hers.


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