"Where have you been?" asks my father, you could read the rage all over his face.
I turn quickly from the back sliding door in which Blake had just snuck out of. I explain to them I went out with a friend, they laughed at me like it was a joke in disbelief. I couldn't blame them, since Michaels death I've had no friends, my life has completely altered. Me, myself and I is all I've had, I was starting to get used to it, to find comfort in it, then Blake showed up confusing my thoughts on alot of things.
My parents take one look at my ankle and explode. It went from lecturing to ranting to endless yelling, I tried to tune it out and looked at the floor, which only pissed them off further.
"That's it, you're grounded. I've just about had it with your attitude. I get it Michael died, its not easy but that gives you no right to treat me nor your father with such disrespect, your a sixteen year old girl. What right do you think you have to leave when you want on your own terms without telling either one of us, and what friend? You've been anti-social with absolutely everyone. This is a family, and you are part of this family whether you like it or not. We've given you time to put yourself back together, now it's your time to move on. Because whether you like it or not he's not coming back, you have to accept it, go on with your life. Now go to your room, we will take you to the doctors tomorrow."
This was the first time my mom hadn't shown me sympathy, hadn't considered my feelings. And it was the first time she had talked about Michael, I winced as the words came out of her mouth, as his name sliced another scar on my heart. I know I deserved to hear what she told me, I knew I had put her through alot of crap as well, but that dosen't mean It didn't hurt like Hell to hear her talk about Michael, to hear her- just like everybody else- tell me to move on, as if it was easy, it wasn't a descision, it was a state of mind, a state of mind I'd never achieve. I looked her dead in the eyes my face raw with anger, with bitterness. I turned towards the stairs and stomped my way up, with my ankle aching at every hit. It felt good. It felt exactly the same way my heart felt -abused.
I slammed my door, locked it and then walked to my bathroom where I almost jumped back at my own unrecognizable reflection in the mirror. I saw my bloodshot red eyes that stood out against my dark brown pupils. I saw my light olive face ridded with pain. I saw my long black hair that Michael loved so dearly, and I saw the scissor that lay on my sink. I grabbed it and started cutting away, I cried as I watched it fall, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. I kept cutting till it was inches above my shoulders, totally uneven, a total mess.
It felt liberating of all the memories that Michael and I had shared were being cut in my hair, it may have felt that way only for a couple seconds but it was enought to make my mind think I was high off of it. I looked down at the mess I had created, my dark locks all over my bathroom tile. I looked up at my reflection again to see the mess I had become. I then looked up to know the messed up of a world that I lived in.
I climbed into bed, I cried till no tears were left to cry, as I found myself falling asleep at last.
The next morning my mom took me to the doctors appointment making no commentary on my haircut, she was still too furious from yesterday and it was my hair anyway, in her eyes I had already slipped away from her, and I kept slipping more each and every day. The wait seemed endless but once I finally got my check up I told the Dr. I had tripped on the side of a couch, she seemed to beleive it and put a small cast like wrapping around it.
After the appointment I was dropped off at school, it was about 9:30 in the morning so I started my day off in third period. I got a bunch of "She's psycho" , "What a freak" stares from everybody in the class because of my new hair, including the teacher which made me laugh in my mind. People are so naive. I almost felt ashamed that these people judging me were the same people I used to consider my friends a few months ago. After Michael died they went on with their lives without a hitch, I practically had to learn how to live mine again. I've learned they were never truly his friends and never truly mine neither. "Please sit down " called out my science teacher. And so I did, I walked down the aisles hearing giggles and comments about myself all the way down, ignoring all of them, well close to all of them. Blake passed me a note after I sat down, it read:
"New look?, I actually like it, badass haha. Did your parents bust you because of your ankle?, I'm still really sorry about that. I wanted you to have fun, but to make it up to you sneak out around 7. I have another idea, a normal idea of fun, promise. - Blake"
I looked up at him, his eyes were glued to me as well, then slowly but surely I nodded. I then watched how easily the smile arose upon his face, a small unrecognizable warm feeling filled up in my stomach, I almost smiled.