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Pageants: A Fictional Narrative

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“I’m so happy that I won that pageant. Now, we can move onto the pageant that I have been looking forward to forever!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, about that. Kelsey, you have to train an amateur, who has never done a pageant before, and she has to win it. In order, for you to apply for this pageant. So, Kelsey, meet Danielle and her mom, Bridget,” my personal trainor, Ally, said.
A girl and her mom walked into the room. The girl’s hair was a boring dirty blonde, that was tucked up in a pathetic ponytail. She had icy blue eyes, they were pretty but looked totally out of place for the rest of her face. She was slouching and looked super nervous. Her mom was just an older replica of her.
“I’m Danielle,” the girl said, interrupting my thoughts. …show more content…

“So, we are actually going to head to the salon. Let’s do something with this pathetic little ponytail of yours. Maybe we’ll give you highlights and layer it.”
After a long day of giving Danielle a makeover, she left. Now, tomorrow comes the hard part, prepping her for the talking and walking part of the pageant. Danielle came in the next day and we started working on her walk. She kept slouching and wasn’t doing it right. I was getting frustrated.
“Ok, let’s stop that for a little bit and work on the questions. Sit down.” I said. Then, I started asking her questions and surprisingly she was really good at them.
The day ended and Danielle left. I thought today was pretty productive, we got the question and makeover part done. But now we have to work on her walk, which sucked.
Throughout the next few days, we worked on Danielle’s walk. And she still wasn’t getting it.
“What is wrong with you! Stop slouching.” I screamed. I was over-the-top frustrated. “I have scoliosis. The doctor says I slouch because if I sit straight my back will hurt from the pressure.” Danielle said calmly.
I felt bad, I kept screaming at her about her posture and she didn’t even have a say in it. I …show more content…

We started to talk and bond throughout the next few days. Soon enough it was pageant day.
“Here,” I handed her my favorite pair of black sparkly shoes. “They are for good luck.”
“Thanks, Kelsey.” She hugged me, put the shoes on, and headed out to the stage.
The pageant went by in a blur. The next thing I know I heard the announcer say “…and the winner is Danielle Coaters. Congratulations!”
Danielle came backstage after getting her prize. “You won!” I squealed.
“All because of you! Let’s celebrate.” Danielle said while hugging me and

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