The handle cold in my hand, I observed my reflection in the mirror; its small size only allowed me to focus on one detail of my face at a time. Angling it upwards, I stared at my eyes, the intensity of their hazel hue exaggerated by my thickly-applied eyeliner. I usually never wear makeup, but it seemed right for the occasion. It wasn’t every day that I got asked out on a date, especially one with a guy as promising as Kyle, so everything had to be perfect. This was going to be the perfect date. It had to be.

            Fumbling for the makeup bag on the far side of my desk, I reached my left hand inside and blindly searched its contents, my gaze still directed towards the mirror. I felt the familiar cylindrical shape I was looking for: my mother’s favorite lipstick. Drawing it out of the worn-out bag, I momentarily rested the mirror on the desk, using my free hand to remove the applicator’s cap. Looking at the overwhelming redness of the lipstick, I was immediately reminded of my mother’s similarly unignorable presence. Unlike me, she knew how to work a room, how to captivate hearts and keep attention trained on her. She had some core spirit that I unfortunately lacked. Maybe it was charm. Or humanity. Either way, I never inherited it from her. What I did inherit, however, were her famed looks: the warm hazel eyes, the free-spirited coily hair, and the soft features that make us look years younger than we actually are. I always wondered how two people so alike in looks could differ so much in personality. Since I was a child, my mother assured me that everyone was different and that those differences made us special, but the ingenuine look she always had in her eye when she said it told me otherwise. Sometimes, I think she asked herself the same question too.

            Picking the mirror back up, I began to apply the lipstick, struggling to remain within the confines of my lips. Suddenly, I heard a faint noise downstairs, the sound stealing my attention away from the mirror. Quickly returning my focus back on my reflection, I noticed that I accidentally got some lipstick on my chin. I put the lipstick down and frantically wiped the stain off. Extending my arm out as far as possible, I attempted to view my entire face in the mirror. The contrast between the red and my dark skin initially unsettled me, but I soon grew accustomed to the bold quality it added to my plain face. Was this how she did it? Is there something more to this lipstick than wax and fats and pigments, something magical? There, in my trembling grasp, was the secret withheld from me so long. My birthright. This lipstick was more than a memory of her; it was her, perfection epitomized. For the first time since the incident, I felt beautiful. No, even better, I felt normal. Aside from the eye-catching scarlet on my lips, there was nothing odd or extraordinary about my appearance. If I was to go outside right then and expose myself to the public gaze, I would have not caused any stirs or commotions; I would have been just like everyone else. I relished my new reality.

            My makeup meticulously applied to perfection, I arose from the wooden chair I had been sitting in for so long and stretch my slightly numbed extremities. The light ticking of the clock overhead reminded me that Kyle would be coming by soon. I still needed to get dressed. I walked over to the opposite side of the room and opened the closet doors. Greeted by an impressive display of gowns and blouses, I excitedly slid through the hangers. Even though this was a first date, I wanted to make a good impression and go a little outside of my comfort zone. My eyes finally spotted the perfect dress, a white flowy gown with elegant long sleeves. I gently pulled it off the hanger and brought it up to my body; the airy fabric made it fly effortlessly as it swung through the air. The design was absolutely gorgeous, and the white fit nicely with my theme of contrasting elements. Black hair, brown skin, red lips, white dress. I was a vision of beauty and confusion, the better half of the pair. I wasted no time in removing the clothes I was wearing; slipping off my t-shirt and jeans, I stripped down to my underwear. About to put on the white gown, I was paralyzed by the sound of approaching footsteps. He wasn’t supposed to be here so early. What would he think of me if he found me standing here all exposed like this? My breath quickened as my mind desperately tried to formulate a plan of action. Nothing. Interpreting my brain’s silence as my solution, I finally decided that the best thing to do was act natural. Well, act as natural as possible given my present situation.

            Managing to force my breathing into a regular pace, my efforts proved futile as a figure appeared at the doorway. It wasn’t Kyle. In fact, it wasn’t even a man. I stood, stunned, watching the thin woman slowly creep into the room. She had a wild expression on her face; her eyes seemed like they would pop out of their sockets at any moment. Nervously studying her body, I saw her left hand tightly clenched around something. A chill ran up my spine once I recognized what it was: a kitchen knife. Its steel surface menacingly gleamed under the ceiling lamp’s light. Though the woman’s stance suggested ill intent, the tremble of her lips and the hesitation in her moves revealed her own fear. Defensively standing a few feet away from me, she halted and looked me deep in my eyes. It was a searching look, one whose purpose was to connect with a person’s inner being. She must have found something, because she stiffened further and backed away a little.

            Her eyes still trained on me, she asked, “What are you doing here?” Her voice was surprisingly soft, almost like a whisper. I saw the tension in her knuckles deepen as she tightened her grip on the knife’s handle, keeping the tip pointed in my direction. Unsure of how to respond, I remained silent. With the only exit route in the room taken, I felt trapped. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and launching the woman into a frenzy. My silence seemed to put her further on edge, her once fearful eyes taking on a more sinister quality.

            “Answer me damnit! What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, her tone more adamant.

            Slowed by a sudden dryness in my throat, I finally responded, “I’m waiting for Kyle.” A part of me wanted to question what she was doing here, but I decided it was best not to further agitate the situation. Who knew what this woman was capable of? I found strength in the hope that, if I distracted her long enough, Kyle would come and save me. My mind wandered to Kyle, his ethereal essence filled me with an unshakable bliss. Even this knife-wielding woman wasn’t enough to deter fate. Our meeting was the work of destiny. I’m sure of it. We belonged together. This was just a little hiccup in our journey towards togetherness; the heavens probably planned it to make our relationship even stronger. Was this how the mystique of the lipstick worked?

            “Please leave and never come back, Julia,” she cried, “no one has to get hurt.” The mentioning of my name interrupted my peaceful train of thought. How did she know my name?

            “Julia, just go. This is our house, and he doesn’t want you near him.” This woman was obviously demented and had probably been stalked me for a while, waiting for her chance to catch me at a vulnerable moment.

            “No, you get out of my house!”

            “You’re not well.” She wasn’t letting up; the illusion she made up was too convincing for her not to believe. But, crazy or not, no one was going to get in the way of my perfect date. Noticing a loosening in her grip, I immediately pounced on her, grabbing for the knife handle. Despite being at a disadvantage, I was able to wrestle the weapon from her hand, the freshly sharpened blade slashing across my palm in the process. I ignored the stinging pain; blood dripped from my open wound, some of which landed on the white dress. Witnessing the desecration of its purity, I became enraged. This was all her fault. She was ruining everything. Though I didn’t really want to, I knew I had to take matters into my own hands. Encircling my fingers as best as I could around the handle, I sank to my knees and mercilessly plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, sinking it deep into her flesh. I repeated this motion several times, each one more passionate and precise than the last. The blood on my hand made it difficult to continue to hold the knife steady. After a few more stabs, I finally let it slip out of my slick hands. Satisfied with my myself, I straightened myself up and quickly scanned the room for something I could use to bandage my cut. I spotted a yellow scarf on the closet floor and picked it up; holding it taut, I wrapped the thin strip of fabric around my hand tied it in a knot. I was still in shock from what I had done, but Kyle would be coming soon, and I needed to get ready. Lifting the white dress from the ground, I put it on, smoothing out the wrinkles with my hands and leaving some blood smudges in the process. Aside from the minimal speckles of blood and stains, the dress was still beautiful. It was no longer perfect, but its imperfections gave it some well-needed character. And I couldn’t be mad at that.

            I gradually lost my taste for perfection. Maybe it was the stained dress or my wild hair, but I reasoned that Kyle would love me regardless of what I looked like. Perhaps it was all just wishful thinking. My mother always told me how much men loved pretty girls, and she was mostly right. But she could have never foreseen a man like him. He embodied everything I wanted from life, success and happiness. I don’t know how I got so lucky. But who am I to question any good in my universe? This was the moment my life had been leading up to, the conclusion to my storybook of sorrows. Kyle would find me there, waiting for him in my white dress, and carry me away to paradise. I was always told to quietly accept what I was given, to never fight against the current. Yet there I was, securing my own little victories. All my life, I was so consumed with the desire to be like my mother that I ignored my own brand of magic. The real Julia was overshadowed by the overbearing disguises of falsehood. Not anymore.

            My back to the door, I was bombarded by the sudden rush of voices and feet stomping into the room. I turned around to face the mob of police officers; they were headed by Kyle, his expression a combination of sympathy and disgust. The sight of the guns pointed in my direction nearly made me scream, but I felt safe with Kyle there with me. My eyes were glued to his face, but his concentration was trained on the ground in front of me; tears formed and streamed down his cheeks as he looked at the woman’s lifeless body.

            “Dana!” he cried out, attempting to lunge towards the dead woman. Three officers restrained him, finally letting go after a few seconds of him struggling. Returning his eyes back to mine, his sympathy was replaced with rage. The way he looked at me broke my heart. It was all her fault. She’s the one who threatened me, but to these ignorant onlookers, I appeared to be the monster. I had to explain myself to him, tell him how I was just trying to protect myself. Without thinking, I ignored the drawn weapons and ran to him, my arms opened wide in anticipation for his embrace. Before I could reach where he was standing, I heard the rapid explosions. I felt the bullets burrow their way through my body. The intense pain sent me straight to the floor; I roughly landed on my stomach. A thick pool of blood formed around me, its warmth sickly sweet. Intending to leave my final mark in Kyle’s life, I brought my face down to the ground and tightly pressed my lips on the flat surface. Bringing my head back up, I stared at the imprint left behind, admiring its brilliant color. As my vision faded into a blur, the red hue of the lipstick became indistinguishable from the huge pool of blood I lay in. Beyond the thick haze, I could tell it was a gorgeous sight to see. All eyes in the room were on me.
            “Is this the magic?” I weakly asked, my world finally fading to black.