My best friend and I were in the section of a small shop and trying out different dresses and clothes. We had accidentally found out about it when we were on our way to our houses. The shop is a couple of blocks away from the school and only sells clothes, shoes, jewelry, and purses.

MIA'S MAJESTIC CLOTHING. That is what the store is called.

I became excited, for I desired to explore their dresses, and practically had to beg to Dejah to join me. She happily obliged and added that she needed to look for a new hijab.

Dejah and I were in separate dressing rooms and doing what most girls do. Dejah was not interested in clothes, especially dresses, as much as I was, but I could tell the entire time that we were trying on different clothes that she was having fun, and that made me happy.

"So what do you like to do during your free time?" I asked as I was putting on a purple dress. "Do you like to play games? Read? Write?"

"Actually...I do not do any of that stuff," she replied loud enough for me to hear. "I am not supposed to."

I taken aback by what she was telling me. "Who says?"

"My religion...and...my parents."

"Ah. You told me that you believe in something different, but you never mentioned what it is."

"My religion is Aspacticle. People who are Aspacticles believe that there are a hundred gods who are boys and a hundred gods who are girls. Young boys and girls are supposed to wear hijabs until they are forced into marriage, and Aspacticles are not allowed to do anything but spread the religion, pray, eat, and sleep."

"Dang. That does not sound like fun."

"It is not supposed to be fun. It is religion."

I finished getting the dress on me, and it was tight. "Guess what? This dress does not fit me."

"It does not?"

"Nope. I can feel it cutting off my circulation."

"Then take it off."

"Already doing that."

I quickly pulled the dress off of me and put back on my regular dress. The one that is purple with red flowers. I opened the door that had separated me from the rest of the store and stepped out. Dejah had beat me to it and was sitting on a small bench by the dressing rooms. She was reading her legend book.

"Dejah," I called, breaking through her thoughts.

She glanced up from her book and smiled. "Not the perfect dress?" she questioned. She let out a giggle.

"Not even close." I tossed the purple dress onto the rack that was stacked high with clothes, and Dejah stood up and walked up to me.

She held up a hijab with a tag on it. The hijab was red. "I like this one. It fits perfectly."

I smiled back. "Good for you." We scooped up our backpacks and put them over our shoulders. "I just wish that I found a good dress. A perfect dress."

"Why do you need a perfect dress? Do you not have plenty of dresses in your closet?"

"Yes, but I was hoping for a dress that is better and more beautiful than the dresses that I own."

"Why?" She raised an eyebrow. "Is it because what James said? That he might ask you out to the dance?"

I could not help but blush. "N-no...m-maybe..."

"Aha! You like him!"

"N-no! I—"

"I can see it now. Eleanor and James! Sittin' in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

I suddenly laughed and gave her a playful slap on the arm. "Stop that! We barely know him. For what we know, he could be a psychopath."

"Pfft! Yeah, right. He was too nice to us to be a psycho."

We made sure that we had all of our things before heading to the counter to pay for the hijab. There was no clerk working at the counter when we had first entered the shop, and we were hoping that somebody was there now. After all, the store's sign said that it was open.

This little shop sent a creepy vibe and felt deserted. The floor and walls were black, and there was nobody here. But that did not bother me much because Dejah was by my side. The lights were on, making both the walls and floor glisten.

We reached the counter - and noticed that somebody was standing behind it. Her back was facing us, and it looked like that she was going through some things.

There was a bell on top of the counter, so I pressed down on it. The bell let out a soft rang, and the lady spun around.

"Oh! Customers," she said in a scratchy voice. "I do not get customers often."

She was an old woman. She had white hair that was in a bun, and there were wrinkles on her face and the backs of her hands. She also had rotten teeth.

I bet that she does not brush her teeth.

"I am Edna Roberts," the old woman introduced herself. "Call me Edna. May I help you?"

I was going to answer and say that we just wanted to buy the hijab, when Dejah placed her new hijab on the counter and said, "Do you have a dress that would be perfect for my friend here?" She motioned to me.

Edna rubbed her chin. "A perfect dress? Is it for a special occasion or something?"

Dejah nodded. "It is for a dance. A certain boy might ask her to go."

Edna glared at me and snapped her fingers. "I have the dress that is perfect for you. And it is free." She pulled out a dress from under the counter and showed it to us.

A red dress. The most irresistible dress that I had ever laid eyes on.

A dress that would lead to my demise.