Courtney WoelberEnglish 2-5th

Table 3Narrative Final DraftApril , 2013

THE BIG BROWN UGLY

“Mom, can I please, please, please see your wedding dress?” I begged.

I was just done watching the greatest movie ever, Cinderella, and I was so star struck that

I wanted to see my mom’s wedding dress. I dashed up to her excitedly and asked her, ever so

gently, my request.

She thought about it for a long moment, and then she replied with a smile, “Well, what’s

the point in having a wedding dress if no one can see it?”

I skipped to the back office closet with my mom ambling behind me. The closet was on

the north side of the house against an outside wall. We kept everything in that closet, from

markers and glue, to knitting needles and yarn, to out of season clothing; and apparently the best

part of a wedding, the dress. She opened up the brown wood doors, and had to move aside some

of the other boxes, but finally she lugged the big white container out into the living room where I

waited anxiously. I looked at the box in anticipation as she walked to the kitchen to get a scissors

to cut the seal.

“Can’t you open it any faster?” I whined as she slit the box open, careful not to cut the

important contents inside. My mom carefully lifted the lid that had SARAH written on it in neat

black letters. She pulled out the dress ever so gingerly, but I still heard the soft whoosh that the

fabric made as it was raised out of its container that it had sat in for so many years.

When I finally got a good look at it, I gasped. She stretched it out and laid it gently on the

blue couch. I gazed at it, mesmerized at the beautiful lace cloth and delicate beading that I had so

often seen in the pictures. As I stared at the dress, she lifted the train from the box, and then, she

let out a terrifying sound: half gasp and half scream. I whipped around to see what was wrong.

“My train!” My mother cried as she held the beautiful satin cloth for me to see. And

there, right smack dab in the middle of it was a big brown patch.

“What happened?” I asked, mortified that anything so beautiful could be marred by such

an ugly splotch.

“Mold. It must have gotten on my dress while it was in the box in the closet,” she

whispered, too much in shock to say much else. She sauntered sadly back to the closet to feel the

wall, and sure enough, she felt it was damp.

“What are you going to do Mama?” I asked.

“I guess it’ll have to go to the dry cleaners, maybe they can get the spot out.” Mom said

as her voice dropped, almost in tears, but still hopeful enough to keep me calm.

“Oh,” I said, glancing over at the wonderful white gown that everyone must have stared

at on that bright, sunny September day- the day my parents got married.

After I was done gawking, my mother packed up the dress, along with the train, and she

went to drop it off at the dry cleaning store.

“Oh yes, I’m sure that will come out,” said the woman behind the large counter.

“Good!” My mother exclaimed with a relieved sigh.

About a week later the phone rang.

“I have your dress ready for you to pick up.” A women’s voice echoed through the

phone. “And the mold did come out.”

“Thank goodness! I’ll be right there.” My mother said as she let out a sigh of relief.

As she grabbed her jacket and her keys, mom turned to me and reminded me for the

billionth time in a week, “Honey, when you get married, just remember, do not store your

wedding dress against an outside wall!”

She doesn’t have to worry, I won’t!