Hey guys! Long time, no see. School started again, and it's been ridiculously hard. D:

The past two weeks I've stayed up until midnight studying, it's insane! Dx

But here and there, I've been working on this! I wanted it to be a big one, since it's the tenth chapter and everything. I know! Ten! :D I've been so excited to get this one up, and I hope you guys enjoy it!

(Edit: This chapter's been revised!)

Disclaimer: I don't own any Powerpuff Girl characters, or CNN. Or Aeropostale, Hollister, Abercrombie, Urban Outfitters, Hot Topic, or American Eagle. Whew!

Sorry for any grammatical errors!

Chapter 10

I was sitting on our large living room sofa, my hands covering my swollen eyes. Tears were still pouring down my face, and my sobs filled the room. My sisters sat on either side of me, Bubbles rubbing my back, trying to soothe me. Professor stood behind the couch, his foot tapping angrily against the carpet while his eyes were fixated on the current national news hot scoop-me. CNN newscasters' voices could be heard low in the background.

"Blossom," Buttercup said to me, tightly grasping my knee that was nearest to her-also soothing, in her own way. "Stop crying. It's been hours now."

Removing my hands, I sat up and looked at her, shaking my head. "You don't understand. Is it your face up there, Buttercup? Are they saying those awful things about you? No. Just me. I've never been this embarrassed in my entire life." I paused, shoving loose hair behind my ears and sniffing loudly. "Not just embarrassed, but...ruined. Half the city hates me now. I can never leave the house again. The last time something like this happened, it happened to all three of us. Now it's just me. Why is this happening to-"

Mid-sentence I glanced at the TV, and at that very moment, those damn newscasters had plastered onscreen the most unflattering picture of me I had ever seen in my entire sixteen years of life. It almost looked like a mugshot of a celebrity getting arrested for a DUI. I burst out into another round of sobs with an appalled wail of "Oh my Goooooooooood!"

At the same time, Bubbles cried, "Those animals!" Buttercup just made a sound of indignation.

My blue eyed sister hugged me tighter and leaned her head down onto my hunched shoulder, as if she could comfort me with the level of her proximity, or something.

Professor leaned over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around me and Bubbles. "I'm so sorry, Blossom honey." His tone was drenched in sympathy. "I don't know if you want to hear this right now, but you know, I can remember another time when you thought you'd never go out in public again."

Putting my sobs on hold, I glanced up at him with an expectant, bleary stare. "What?"

"Oh, you don't remember?" He smiled slightly and straightened his glasses. "I seem to recall that time when you got a…um…'haircut' from your sisters." He made air quotes with his fingers.

A haircut? My sisters had never given me...oh wait. Click. "Oh, that's right. It was back when we were five." For a moment I forgot about my despair. Beside me, Bubbles sat up and covered her giggles with her hand. I glared at her. "I can't believe you're still laughing about it."

"B-but B-blossom!" Bubbles stuttered out between breaths. She was now laughing so hard that her entire face was red. "That was one of the funniest things I've ever seen in my life!"

I turned my glare to Buttercup as she tried to disguise laughs with coughs.

"Yeah, well, it was humiliating. It was the worst day of my life." I took a long pause as I glanced at the TV, where images of me with my hand over my face were splattered everywhere. "Except for today." Slowly, my glare faded, and new thoughts invaded my mind. Thoughts that annoyed me because they shouldn't have even mattered.

'What if Brick sees those news reports?' 'What if it changes his opinion about me?' And the one that disturbed me the most: 'Will he still have feelings for me?' I felt the blood drain from my face. After seeing me like that, would he change his mind about what he said? What if he believed them? What if he thought I was crazy?

"Blossom," Professor broke through my thoughts. "Did you hear me?"

I cleared my throat. "No, sorry." I said, barely above a whisper. "Come again?"

His mouth formed a serious line. "Blossom, you are much too hard on yourself. This is all because of Princess, remember? This wasn't your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself for everything."

I took a glimpse at my sisters' solemn faces, and they nodded their heads in agreement. "But I can't help it." My words were high pitched. I was on the verge of tears again. "That's just the way I am."

"We understand that," Professor continued, "but you're making yourself miserable over it. Look at yourself."

My shoulders drooped. Well, I was pretty miserable.

Bubbles cut in, "and you keep forgetting one important detail. Bloss," Bubbles paused. I looked up at her, then she smiled warmly and said, "You have us. No matter what happens."

Slowly, I returned the smile. That's why I love my sisters so much. I could do anything to betray them (which I have before), anything to make them furious with me (which I've done too many times to count), and they wouldn't think of me any differently. They would still love me and support me.

I felt a momentary overwhelming wave of gratefulness wash over me, but almost immediately afterward, the thoughts from before shattered my momentary happiness.

Sure, he had said he loved me. But that could change in a second if he saw what these people on the news thought of me-like I was some sort of monster.

I suddenly wished my conscience was there to bug me again.

-Brick's POV-

I watched the TV in complete shock. I flipped through every news station in the country, and every time I clicked to the next channel, the shock and unease grew. I shook my head. "Aw, Bloss..."

Her pretty face was all over those damn news stations. Headlines like 'Powerpuff finally loses it!' and 'Blossom attacks innocent fan!' flashed across the screen. I watched as one channel showed a clip of her pushing through the crowd of the parasitic media surrounding her. She looked beyond frustrated, so small, asking them to move as tears flowed down her face. At the sight of her tears, rage flared up inside of me.

"Those bastards," I shouted, almost ripping the remote between my hands in half. I continued to listen to the reporter's voice.

"Eyewitnesses say that when an innocent teenage fan approached her, simply asking her for an autograph, the super heroine began to shout at her and threaten her. We interviewed this fan earlier today, let's take a look." The screen quickly switched to a clip of the interview that took place. As soon as I saw the girls' face, my face twisted with anger.

"Princess…that bitch." Of course it was her. I should have known.

"Yes, she did attack me." Princess said, her high-pitched, whiny voice irritating me even over the television. "I was scared for my life!" After she said this, she turned dramatically towards the camera. She made an overdone Home-Alone-like expression, and then proceeded to flip her thick red hair. "I've never been so scared in my life. I thought I was going to die. I don't know if I can go on!"

The newswoman shook her head in sympathy, her brow furrowed. I shook my head as well, watching her. I couldn't believe that she had actually believed that crap. The woman turned towards the camera. "Poor girl. You heard it here first." Behind her, Princess proceeded to wink and wave at the camera until the clip faded out, like the phony she was. I suddenly had a stronger, new-found disdain for that girl.

I quickly changed the channel, and two more news reporters were having a conversation.

"Y' know, Rich, it seems like just yesterday that those Powerpuff Gals were sweet, innocent little five year olds."

"You got that right, Gladys! I still remember the first time I met those girls, all cute and everything. Now they're all grown up."

"Exactly! And, now that they're grown up, should we still be able to trust them? I mean, as we saw today, even Powerpuff Girls have a breaking point. What if it happens again?"

"That's right, and how do we know that if it does happen again, that all of our lives won't be in danger?"

I clicked the television off immediately, and then turned to throw the remote control out of the window. I paused, thinking of how pissed the monkey would be it I destroyed another remote. I threw it to the couch instead, the plastic battery flap flying off of the back. I gripped my face in my hands, rubbing my temples furiously. I took deep breaths in attempt to control my anger, but it hardly helped.

'Such bullshit.' I thought. 'Blossom would never do that. Maybe I would, but she wouldn't. What the hell is wrong with these people?' Her name in my mind reminded me of something completely different. My fury died down suddenly, and it was replaced by guilt and a sort of sadness. The feeling brought or sort of numb pain to my stomach. I thought back to this afternoon.

'You know what we have to do now, boys.' The mutant monkey had said, his lips parted to reveal blade-sharp, gleaming teeth in a menacing, ugly smile. His words twisted my stomach again now. Yes, of course I knew. But I didn't want to think about it. I had been trying to avoid that thought since last night.

I rested my chin in my hands, grimacing at the awful churning in my stomach.

I didn't want to do it. In fact, I kept wondering why I did all of those things and said all of that to her last night in the first place. I knew I shouldn't have. Because if I hadn't, then I wouldn't have to do…this. I squeezed my eyes shut, already regretting it. But it wasn't just my fault...my brothers had done this too. It wasn't even planned out that way, but it happened. For all of us. I sighed aloud.

I wondered if I had known about them doing it, if I would have stopped them.

'Probably not,' I thought. 'They probably wouldn't have even listened to me.' Conversely, if they had tried to stop me, I wouldn't have listened anyway. 'I lost control. Something drove me to let go last night.'

It was true. I let go completely. I said things to her that I never thought I would ever say to her. Things I'd always imagined saying, but never dared because I couldn't. And I still couldn't now...but it was too late. I already did. It was done now. Things would never be the same.

I could practically feel myself holding her tightly in my arms again, her addicting scent nearly knocking me senseless. I longed to feel her silk-soft skin beneath my fingertips, watch as the blood flooded her cheeks when I touched her. I opened my eyes. The memories of the night before made my grief worse. Seeing that nobody else was in the room with me made the sting harsher, and I wished I hadn't opened my eyes again.

This was why I shouldn't have let go last night. It would only make things from now on harder for the both of us. I shook my head. It had to be done. There wasn't anything I could do about it, it wasn't my choice, and I hated that.

I lifted my eyes to the open window, my eyes catching on the long red ribbon on the windowsill. I watched the end of it flutter and sway in the quiet breeze, more memories from last night coming back.

'Is…is that what I think it is, Brick?'

'This is the ribbon I took from you seven years ago.'

'No, seriously? Why did you keep it this whole time?'

'You don't even kn-'

I forced the last part from my mind, remembering what came after that. My stomach turned again, and I gulped hard.

Suddenly, the wind picked up, and the ribbon started to slip outside towards town. I bolted towards it, reaching my hand towards it, and caught the end of it just in time. I huffed a heavy sigh of relief, gripping the crimson piece of fabric. I stared at it, stared real hard, my eyes following the faint traces of blood stains remaining on it. It was funny how much this small piece of fabric meant so much to me. It meant so much because it was hers. The reason why I had the scar on my head, the reason life actually meant something to me now. It symbolized that.

I grimaced now, still staring at it. I squeezed my eyes shut, regretting the next few actions I was going to make. Not just in the next few seconds, but far beyond that as well.

I stepped forward, my free hand gripping the window sill. I forced my occupied hand as far out into the city air as I could, my fingers aching to stay closed.

I forced myself to watch as I opened my hand, dropping the ribbon into thin air. The ribbon fluttered further into the city as the wind picked up again.

I watched it until I couldn't anymore.

-Blossom's POV-

That night I lay awake in my bed, gripping the fuzzy pink comforter around me. I brought my knees up to my chest in a fetal position. I huffed out a heavy breath, as if it was hard to do so. My eyes flickered to the digital clock on the wall, and I found that it wasn't night at all. It was morning.

4:17 am.

I hadn't been keeping track of time at all. I just lay there, thinking about the past awful twenty four hours. The past twenty four hours without him. That empty ache in my chest had gotten much worse, much more noticeable. The sight of him flying into the night sky was still fresh in my mind, and thinking about it made me cold again. I pulled my blankets closer around me. I shivered, but I wasn't sure if it was because I was cold, or if it was for another reason.

I knew this couldn't be healthy. For pity's sakes, it had only been a day. Before yesterday, I was ecstatic when I didn't see him for weeks at a time. I felt free.

But now I felt drained. I didn't feel well, I felt sick. This day sucked on every level, and feeling like this wasn't helping me at all.

I had school the next day, I should've been sleeping, but my thoughts were loud. Thoughts of last night would always be imprinted in my memory. They were words someone never forgot, even if they tried, for as long as they live.

I sighed. I wanted this horrible feeling to end. I had to see him again, and soon.

I closed my eyes, but sleep didn't come that night.

-Time skip, 4 months later-

I heard footsteps outside my door. They woke me, but I forced my eyes to stay shut. I didn't feel the need to get out of bed. There was nothing better for me to do these days.

The late august breeze came through my window, tousling the long fringe around my face. I flinched. The warm air was making me uncomfortably hot. I felt liquid run down my face, but I knew it wasn't sweat. They were tears.

I moved my hand incautiously to dab at the familiar fluid, ignoring the slight sting went I accidentally scratched my face. When I opened my eyes and then blinked, I wasn't surprised when more leaked out of the corners of my eyes. I had cried so much the past few months, it had lost its meaning long ago. I was surprised my tear ducts could still produce tears.

I flinched as the wind picked up, the hot air nipping at my eyes. I decided it was time to get out of bed, so I brought my legs to the edge of the bed and stopped a moment to stretch. It didn't feel good; my muscles were tightened and stiff. I stood up slowly, my head still swimming from the sudden change in blood flow. Shuffling my feet over the carpet, I arrived at my vanity.

I stared at the girl in the mirror. She had long, flowing red hair, but it was tangled and looked unkempt. It fell past the boundaries of the mirror in tangled curls. She had bangs, but they looked like they were in the stage of being grown out, because they had grown long past the tip of her nose. Behind the long bangs, she had pale pink eyes, but they looked vacant. They were hazed over, and the whites of her eyes were slightly blood-shot. There was evidence of circles under her eyes, as a sign of lack of sleep. They were the kind of circles that one gets from not only one sleepless night, but many in a row. Her eyebrows had formed what it seemed was a permanent sad line, as if it was carved into her face. Her mouth formed a taught, thin line. I didn't recognize her at all.

She didn't look happy. In fact, she looked tortured and heartbreakingly miserable. She looked dead inside.

A quiet tap at my door silenced my thoughts, but I didn't tear my eyes away from the reflective surface.

"Blossom," the voice of my green-eyed sister came from under the crack of the door. "Breakfast is in the kitchen…come if you're hungry."

My mouth twitched humorlessly at the sarcasm in her tone. I hadn't been that hungry at all. I hardly ate that much anymore. Still eyeing the mirror, I poked at the faint tracings of my ribs straining against my skin. I knew that probably should have concerned me, but it didn't.

I didn't care anymore.

But I knew that I was probably worrying my family. I thought about it all the time, although no more than something else-but I forced the something else from my mind.

After quite a time of mentally debating with myself, I finally decided to put on my pair of hot pink Aeropostale slippers and hesitantly scuffle down the stairs. I could hear the clinging of dishes and murmuring voices from the upstairs hall, and when I appeared at the kitchen doorway, the noises immediately stopped. My two sisters and my father stared at me with rattled expressions. As if I was the Ghost of Christmas Past, or something.

Finally, my blonde sister broke the silence first. "Blossom! Oh my God!" The volume of her voice rose with her exclamation. She flew at me, her arms open wide. She embraced me tightly and warmly, like she hadn't seen me in a long time. Which, in a way, she kind of hadn't. "You're here!"

"I've always been here," I muttered, surprised that my voice came out in a croak.

This earned me another stunned look from my family, even Bubbles pulled back from the embrace momentarily to stare at me. All of the staring was starting to bother me. I twisted my face into an expression that I thought could possibly be annoyance. "What?" I croaked again.

#

"We really were worried about you, honey." Professor said, swallowing the last bit of pancake he had chewed. "We're very glad to see you. This is a surprise."

I didn't know how to reply, so I just nodded. I swallowed more syrup-drenched pancake without tasting it, just eating for the sake of eating. There was a brief silence, and the sound of forks and knives scraping against plates echoed in the room.

Bubbles turned to face me, her eyes looking me up and down. I shrunk away from her gaze self-consciously. "Bloss," her face was full of sympathy, and if I was being honest, pity. "You look terrible."

I scowled, practically massacring the last bit of pancake on my plate with my fork. I knew I did. She didn't have to tell me that.

"Really, you do," Buttercup chimed in, nodding a little too eagerly for my liking.

I clenched my teeth. I was beginning to regret coming out of my room. "Well, sorry." I paused, taking a drink of my orange juice. It helped the sound of my voice a little, but not by much. "What am I supposed to do about it?" Besides, it's not like I had a reason to care about my appearance anymore. Since the...Princess incident, and the escalation at school afterwards, I stayed in my room now, and that's it. So why bother?

Bubbles reached her hand over to touch mine. Her tanned, slim, French manicured fingers made mine look like pale sausages. The difference was almost appalling. "Blossom," she said slowly, like she was explaining something to a toddler. "Me and Buttercup are going to take you to the mall."

"No." The mall…? Where more people could see me and be disgusted? I opened my mouth to protest further, but she put a slender, tan finger in my face.

"We're going to give you a makeover." Buttercup finished for her, using the same slow tone.

I stared at her. Had Buttercup always cared this much about shopping? A few months and it's like I don't even know my own sisters anymore. "No, you're not. Besides, I don't have the money for that!" I blurted, searching for an excuse to stay here. Anything, anything at all.

"It's our treat. We'll pay for everything," Bubbles answered immediately. From the way she'd had the answer ready, evidently, they had been planning to do this for a while now. Perhaps if I hadn't come out of my room on my own, they would've broken in and taken me forcibly. "Besides," she continued, "do you really expect us to let you start the new school year the way you look right now?"

I cringed, remembering. We started school in a week, and this school year we would be juniors. I groaned aloud.

"I didn't think so," Bubbles gave me a smug look. "So, start getting ready after you're done eating." After she said this, she and Buttercup eyed the last chunks of pancake in front of me.

I stared at it too, panicking. My eyes flashed to the platter of pancakes in the middle of the table, and grabbing my fork, I stabbed as many pancakes as I could and threw then onto my plate. Pouring more syrup on top of the mountain, I glanced up at Bubbles dry expression.

"Unbelievable," Buttercup said to me, mirroring Bubbles expression.

"…What?" I mumbled innocently. "I'm really hungry." That wasn't a complete lie. I actually hadn't realized how hungry I really was until I started eating. My stomach churned violently, begging for more, and I had forgotten that I had skipped all three meals yesterday. Well, not only yesterday, but sometimes every other day lately. Not on purpose, I just...didn't have a large appetite these days. Except for today, I guess.

My sisters got up from the table, rolling their eyes in sync.

I shrugged and proceeded to scoop pancakes into my watering mouth, and Professor still sat across the table from me, rubbing his temples and probably wondering why he didn't create boys.

#

"Guys, slow down!" I cried. I regretted having so many pancakes in such a short time, and my whole body felt weighed down and sluggish as we flew to the Townsville Mall.

I also wasn't used to flying anymore. The crime rate had slowed from slim to none lately. We suspected that Mojo had gone somewhere, and he'd been gone for months. With him gone, the rest of crime sort of came to a standstill. So I hadn't been using my powers as much. Plus, after the Princess situation a few months ago, I stopped going out in public. That's how it'd been the entire summer: I spent days locked in my room, sleeping. Only sometimes during the night would I let myself leave my bedroom, when there was no one around to see me and talk to me and ask what was wrong with me. I didn't want to talk or be looked at like some freak. It had become safe in there, quiet. Filled with only the books and music that I liked. No embarrassment. No people that don't understand. No pain.

And now I was really really regretting coming out of there.

"Speed up, pinky." Buttercup shouted at me over her shoulder. I struggled to accelerate, my eyes watering from the wind.

Bubbles flew beside Buttercup, and the two exchanged a look as she shook her head. "I still can't believe we're taking you out in public looking like this," she remarked at me over her shoulder.

Ouch. I mean really...ow. That hurt. I blustered, "Hey, shut up! You guys are family. You're supposed to love me no matter what, remember?"

Bubbles turned her head momentarily to give me a genuine smile. "Of course we love you, Bloss," she said in a gentle tone. "We always will." She paused, raising an eyebrow. "But would it have killed you to brush your hair?"

I shrugged, playing with a chunk of the red mass between my fingers. Before we left, I had tried to brush it. But at the bottom, it was so tangled that the bristles wouldn't go through the strands at all.

"And good Lord, look at how long it is!" Buttercup chimed in again. "How do you walk with that motherfucker on your head?"

"Buttercup!" Bubbles cut at her, giving her a glare. "Be nice."

Buttercup half shrugged. "Just saying."

She was right, though. I glanced back at my hair, flowing slightly past my calves, almost to my ankles. I didn't put it up in a ponytail anymore, and I hadn't gotten a haircut in who knows how long.

I hadn't realized that we had arrived at the mall until my sisters dropped from my line of vision, floating to the ground below. I followed, my hair flowing above me like a parachute. As soon as I landed, Buttercup turned to me quietly and held out a pair of shiny black aviators in her hand, offering me a small smile. I took them gratefully and hoped they would help disguise me even a little bit.

We walked to the front doors in silence, and greeting us on the other side was the loud, crowded food court, bustling with teenagers. It reminded me of our high school, and I suddenly felt like running. Almost everyone turned their attention to us, and my stomach dropped to my feet. But when I looked at their faces, they seemed to only be looking at my sisters. Even while I was relieved, I couldn't help but feel a bit inadequate. My sisters were, after all, gorgeous. Even more than I remembered.

Bubbles was wearing a faded, frayed Hollister skirt, her slim legs glowing tan. Her navy blue and white tube-baby doll top stood out beautifully against her skin tone, and her gleaming, straightened blonde hair fell flawlessly and layered to her ribcage. The dark blue of her shirt made her eyes stand out even more. Black eyeliner framed her eyes, and her eyelashes somehow seemed longer.

Buttercup had changed her look a little bit over the summer. Currently she wore acid-wash, super tight, black skinny jeans, making her legs look even more slender and long. She wasn't as tan as Bubbles, but her skin still held the glow of a summer spent outdoors and stood out against the black tube top she wore. The tube top had the print of a skeleton' ribs and spinal cord on it, and in the ribcage was the fictional shape of a heart, and it was green. Her hair had also grown longer over the summer, and it now fell past her shoulders, but the top of it was cut into choppy layers, which gave her hair an overall heart shape. It was glossy black and straightened as well. Side-bangs were clipped across her forehead, no skin peeking though it at all. Her eye makeup was still heavy and black in true Buttercup fashion.

They must have put more effort than I did to get ready. I looked down shamefully at my too-loose jeans and plain white tank top that washed out against my pale, sun-deprived skin. My sisters took my hands and dragged me through the crowd. As we walked through, I could hear whistles and shouts coming from guys all around us, and I hung my head, knowing very well who they were directed at. Bubbles tried to cover her embarrassed giggles with her free hand, and Buttercup just rolled her eyes in disgust.

As we kept walking, less people started noticing us- or should I say, them. Though, every once in a while I would see a group of teenage boys gawking at them. However, my sisters paid no mind. As I watched them, I noticed something. They really had changed. Not just physically, but in different ways.

Bubbles had been acting really cheerful all morning. Not just like she had always been, but more. Almost too cheerful...like something was wrong and she was trying to hide it. And Buttercup. She had been...quieter this morning. Not only this morning, but when I spent days in my room, I never heard her yelling or breaking something from outside my door.

Hadn't Professor noticed? Was I the only one?

Then I thought back to our sisterly meeting forever ago. I furrowed my brow. It couldn't be...but maybe I wasn't the only one having a bad time. Had they been suffering as much as I had been?

"Okay," Bubbles said suddenly. I snapped my head up, and I didn't realize I had started to cry until the movement sent tears ricocheting off of my face. "First stop, Abercrombie." She had already started dragging me towards the store, a wide grin on her face.

Suddenly, Buttercup tugged on my other arm, jerking me towards her in the opposite direction. "I don't think so," she said with raised eyebrows. She jerked me again. "First stop, Urban Outfitters."

"No," Bubbles paused to pull me towards her with more force. "Hollister."

"No," Buttercup pulled me harder. "Hot Topic."

"No!" Bubbles shouted this time, yanking me. I was starting to feel dizzy. "American Eagle!"

"Girls, hey! Ow!" I cried as the tug-of-war game continued, my arms throbbing.

This was going to be a long mall trip.

#

My breath hitched in my throat. "I don't know, guys…"

I sat in a hair stylists' chair, staring that red-haired girl in the mirror again. The stylist behind me had my hair bundled in one hand, the other hand on her hip. She had choppy, short pink hair and a warm smile on her smile, the ring in her nose lifting slightly.

"Blossom, you need to do this. Here. Now. It's time." Buttercup came to my left side, grasping my shoulder for emphasis on her next words. "Or I'll do it myself." She made a scissor motion with two fingers threateningly.

My eyes widened.

"Besides," Bubbles came to my other side attempting to brush the extra hair out of my face. "It's not going to be that short." She turned to the stylist. "Right, Kat?"

"Definitely," the girl named Kat said. She winked at me. "Don't worry, sweetie. I know you like it long. We're just going to make it manageable." She had a thick southern English accent, and it actually calmed me down a bit. I nodded slowly, and Kat pulled out a hair tie. She slowly made a loose ponytail, letting the hair tie down to my elbow. "How's that?" She paused to let me reply with a small whimper. "I'm just gonna lob the whole ponytail off at one go, so we can get over with it quick, all right? I'm doing it now."

I nodded and clamped my eyes shut. I didn't want to watch. I felt a small tugging at my hair, but that was it.

"It's over, lovey." Kat said comfortingly, and I slowly and hesitantly opened my eyes. She dangled the yard-long ponytail in front of me, and my jaw dropped.

"Mhmm." Bubbles tone was sing-songy, and I scowled.

I then looked at the length of hair again, and let out a sad sigh. "Bye, hair." I said glumly, and the trio around me chuckled.

"Does your head feel lighter, Bloss?" Buttercup teased, squeezing my shoulder.

I knew she wasn't serious, but I tilted my head from side to side, marveling at how it felt. "Actually, it does."

The trio laughed again, and then Kat suddenly spun me around in the swivel chair. "Let's finish this up!" Her smile grew eager, reaching towards me with the scissors and a small comb.

I braced myself, nervous for the outcome. While she worked, I glanced at my sisters, who were currently arguing about whether Buttercups' makeup was too heavy or not. I didn't realize I was smiling. Not a big one, but still, a smile. I didn't remember how long it had been since I had smiled.

This summer had been a torturous one. Lonely. I'd locked myself in my room, day after day, wallowing. I'd forgotten what I was missing in the outside world. There were so many things I missed. Today had been so much fun, and now I realized, I needed it. I needed to leave my room, I needed to see my sisters again, to be with them, to be surrounded by their love.

And now I also realized that it was time to move on. More than just my embarrassment and fear of everyone else...I couldn't spend the rest of my life crying over…him. Of course, I couldn't say his name anymore. It hurt too much. But I couldn't let him ruin my life. I couldn't let anybody ruin my life. I needed to be me again.

I swallowed, the tears at the back of my eyes threatening to come out. I grit my teeth together. No. I wasn't going to cry. Not anymore.

'There you go, that's my girl.' The familiar, long lost voice of my conscience returned, echoing strong in my mind in a new-found, loud volume. 'Welcome back, Blossom.'

Has Blossom really moved on? Will her broken heart heal?

And what about her sisters?

:0

Until next chapter! I'll definitely write a lot over my Thanksgiving and Christmas break. ;D

Please Review! Thanks.

-MsButterfingers