My dress had finally arrived, and it was beautiful. It was long in the back and shorter in the front. The dress was embalmed in glitter, and it was a dusty pink color. I also had these shoes that were beautiful and made me look taller. I had tried the dress on the day before homecoming just to make sure it fit, and it fit like a glove. So, I slid it on and went downstairs so my mom could zip up the back. I could tell she was struggling, and eventually she got frustrated. 

“This zipper is all messed up. The whole zipper is ripped apart!” she proclaimed. I really didn’t know what to say because this was the only dress that I had. 

“Well yelling isn’t going to help anything,” I told her. 

“What did you do to your dress? How did it get ripped?” she asked. 

I kept telling her over and over that I didn’t know, but that didn’t satisfy her question. Eventually I left her room and went to mine to see if I could fix the dress myself. Spoiler alert: I couldn’t. My mom kept on rambling about the dress just loud enough so I could hear, meanwhile I was trying to find solutions. I was texting the group chat that my friends and I share to see if anyone had backup dresses. One of my friends replied saying that she did, however it was way too big and not the right theme for homecoming. Meanwhile, my mom was trying to sew the back of the dress. Unfortunately the fabric was way too thick, and the needle couldn't perforate it. I was just about to give up when I heard my grandma calling up the stairs for me. As I entered the living room at the bottom of the stairs, I could see that they were trying to find a solution. 

“This dress looks like it had been cut,” my aunt stated. “There’s no fixing this.” 

I was losing all hope at this point. “Is there any way we can sew it?” my grandma said. 

“No, we already tried that,” I told her. My grandma was trying to find places online that were open, and my aunt was scanning the back of my dress where the zipper had been torn. Eventually my grandma found a dress shop named Bridal Boutique, but it was to close in 10 minutes. I sighed, and decided that I just wasn’t going to be able to go to homecoming. However, in the corner of my eye, I could see that my grandma was dialing the number of the dress shop. 

“Hello, I am calling to ask if you can stay open for a little while longer for my granddaughter,” said my grandma. “She needs a dress for homecoming, and the one she was going to wear is ripped in the back. It’s an emergency!” 

The lady on the phone put my grandma on hold so she could ask her manager. The manager said yes, and before I knew it we were in the car speeding to the shop. As soon as we got there the worker rushed me to the fitting room, and there was a rack full of dresses for me to try on. The dressing room was big, like one of the fancy ones you see when people try on wedding dresses. There were couches, mirrors on every wall, and even a platform to stand on. There wasn’t time to survey the room, though. I tried on the first dress, and it really wasn’t my style so I decided to go onto the next one. Then the next one. Then the next one. None of the dresses fit me like I wanted them to. Eventually they let me go out into the lobby, where they had all of their homecoming/prom dresses. There it was. The perfect, light pink, bedazzled, dress. It was short and poofy on the bottom, and the top was covered in rhinestones. I immediately tried it on, and it fit like a glove. It was perfect. After I announced to my aunt and grandma that I found the perfect dress, we were all ecstatic! We went to the cashier who was also the worker, and tipped her extra. We raced home, and I ran to my room to start the curling iron. My mom was doing my makeup, while my aunt was doing my hair. I was doing my nails, while my grandma was basically there for emotional support. In 20 minutes I was all ready to go, and my friend's mom was at my front door ringing my doorbell. Hurrying, panting, sweating, I ran out the door and hopped in her car. Just like that I was off to have a less chaotic night!