AMARA’S POINT OF VIEW.

I sat dressed in the knee-length pink dress my father picked out for me to wear at tomorrow’s dinner with my fiancé. The soft baby pink color made me feel youthful and innocent as I pulled on the soft, silk material.

I hate this dress.

All I want to do is rip it to shreds and set the shredded pieces on fire….as long as it meant I didn’t have to meet him tomorrow.

My skin flushes all of a sudden, as the hair on my arms rises with ...