Julissa
The bags under my eyes drooped like the fat of an old woman's alabaster skin.
My eyes had sunk in to lifeless orbits. They were terrifying to see in the mirror's reflection.
I didn't know where I had gone wrong. I had once known me better than any one else.
But somewhere, my path had gone terribly astray.
I studied the strawberry strands clogged in the sink and the silver scissors that had fallen upon the heaps.
Mom was going to go crashing to the floor once she saw what I had done to myself.
She had always marvelled at my gorgeous locks, like Goldie Locks, as she would say.
She didn't understand how I had inherited such beautiful hair.
Her hair was the typical dirty blonde, thin and a bit past her shoulders.
She would tell me that I damn sure didn't get the genes from my dad.
I wasn't so sure myself. He had left when I was four.
I, personally, liked my new hairstyle. It was close-cut, like a guys may be.
I probably could be mistaken for a guy if I wore woven shirts and henleys.
That wasn't what I wanted, though.
My hand ran across the top of my head. It was weird feeling the actual roundness
and even the minor dip in the back of it. I had never paid attention before.
A knock came on the bathroom door. "Julissa?"
I had no time to speak and hinder Mom from coming in. I had been in here for hours, toying ideas in my mind. She had probably grown concerned, which I wish she wouldn't be.
I was a big girl.
The door stopped midway, but I could still see her entire face. If I could see hers, I knew she could see mine staring right back at her.
Her fragile hand gradually raised to cover her mouth as her jubilant eyes widened.
Faintly, her head shook from side to side.
I had seen this coming.
"Good god, no..."
My eyes had sunk in to lifeless orbits. They were terrifying to see in the mirror's reflection.
I didn't know where I had gone wrong. I had once known me better than any one else.
But somewhere, my path had gone terribly astray.
I studied the strawberry strands clogged in the sink and the silver scissors that had fallen upon the heaps.
Mom was going to go crashing to the floor once she saw what I had done to myself.
She had always marvelled at my gorgeous locks, like Goldie Locks, as she would say.
She didn't understand how I had inherited such beautiful hair.
Her hair was the typical dirty blonde, thin and a bit past her shoulders.
She would tell me that I damn sure didn't get the genes from my dad.
I wasn't so sure myself. He had left when I was four.
I, personally, liked my new hairstyle. It was close-cut, like a guys may be.
I probably could be mistaken for a guy if I wore woven shirts and henleys.
That wasn't what I wanted, though.
My hand ran across the top of my head. It was weird feeling the actual roundness
and even the minor dip in the back of it. I had never paid attention before.
A knock came on the bathroom door. "Julissa?"
I had no time to speak and hinder Mom from coming in. I had been in here for hours, toying ideas in my mind. She had probably grown concerned, which I wish she wouldn't be.
I was a big girl.
The door stopped midway, but I could still see her entire face. If I could see hers, I knew she could see mine staring right back at her.
Her fragile hand gradually raised to cover her mouth as her jubilant eyes widened.
Faintly, her head shook from side to side.
I had seen this coming.
"Good god, no..."
Julissa
By Shaire Blythe
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Spur of the moment writing.
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