I didn't like my mother.
Why didn't she like me? I never did anything to her. What was wrong with me?
I glared at myself in the mirror as I held the scissors close to my hair. It was the one thing my mother loved about me; my hair. The way the blonde highlights shown through at certain angles, the way it fell over my shoulders, the way its waves and curls gave it body.
But I didn't like my mother.
Thus, I chopped off a good several inches of my hair, leaving it just on top of my shoulders.
I grinned. Then I burst into tears.
What have I done? I loved my mother..I really did..but why did she hate me? I sat down on my bed, staring at my bedroom floor where my hair lay. So why must I punish myself because of her foolish mother-lacking skills?
I suppose I cut my hair for various reasons; I hated my long hair. My mother loved it, so that's why I had kept it so long. Cutting my hair gave me new feeling; a new well being. It helped me feel like me and not just my mother's offspring. I stopped crying, wiped my eyes and deposited the hair into my waste paper basket.
I began to shake as I thought of what my mother would do once she found out what I had done. I quickly tied up my hair into a ribbon and glanced at myself in the mirror. My mother wouldn't be home until late tonight, so I pushed the thoughts out of my head and grabbed my school bag. Without another glance in the mirror, I headed to school.
It had been several weeks since the night I had gone with Gordie and Chris to their sunset place. After that night, I realized that the way I dressed, what I ate, everything was what my mother had wanted for me. I did not like dressing the way I did, I was just so used to it. And I did not like living off of peanut butter and water, I was just used to it.
So I began making my own decisions instead of my mother..this, of course, resulted in several bruises and cuts to me. I didn't mind though, my mother's blows to my head weren't going to stop me from being whom I was.
But I knew she couldn't do much. The baby was do any day and I pitied the baby. Why must it be born into such a horrible world? It is not fair for someone to be born into such a terrible place..yet somehow this new baby gave me hope, that for some reason God still brings new life to the earth..and that gave me faith.
When I got to school I quickly walked to my locker, pulling my sweater closer to me. I quickly threw all the books I didn't need into my locker and headed to homeroom. On my way there, I ran into Gordie who smiled at me.
"Hey Celeste," he said grinning. I smiled back.
"Hi."
We talked for a bit and after a few moments I waved good bye and went into homeroom. It felt pretty good to have someone to talk to. I usually never had anyone; my best friend Colette Wiston moved away several years ago and I missed her very badly. Ever since then I never really grew close to any girls as best friends nor anyone. It was nice talking to Chris and Gordie routinely.
I sat down at my seat in homeroom and began to zone out like usual. I seemed to be depressed all the time. Was there really a reason for me to live anymore? My mother hated me, I had no friends, no father, no family..What was happening to me? Why bother?
"Hey Celest."
I looked up and my heart fluttered for some odd reason as I looked into the warm eyes of Chris Chambers.
"Hi," I said softly. He sat down beside me.
"What are you doing after school today?" He asked me. I grinned.
"Most likely homework..that's about it," I replied.
"Do you want to hang out with Gordie and me? We'll be at his house so you can just come over after you go home."
I smiled at him. "Okay, sure."
He studied me for a moment then noticed my hair. "Hey-you got a haircut!"
I laughed. "You're a fast one.."
He smiled. My heart fluttered again. What was wrong with me? "It looks nice," he said.
I felt myself blushing and looked down. "Erm..thanks."
What was going on with me? I was fifteen years old, not five years old! I pushed the confusing thoughts out of my mind and laid my head down for the rest of homeroom, praying to God that Chris didn't notice my blush.
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Why didn't she like me? I never did anything to her. What was wrong with me?
I glared at myself in the mirror as I held the scissors close to my hair. It was the one thing my mother loved about me; my hair. The way the blonde highlights shown through at certain angles, the way it fell over my shoulders, the way its waves and curls gave it body.
But I didn't like my mother.
Thus, I chopped off a good several inches of my hair, leaving it just on top of my shoulders.
I grinned. Then I burst into tears.
What have I done? I loved my mother..I really did..but why did she hate me? I sat down on my bed, staring at my bedroom floor where my hair lay. So why must I punish myself because of her foolish mother-lacking skills?
I suppose I cut my hair for various reasons; I hated my long hair. My mother loved it, so that's why I had kept it so long. Cutting my hair gave me new feeling; a new well being. It helped me feel like me and not just my mother's offspring. I stopped crying, wiped my eyes and deposited the hair into my waste paper basket.
I began to shake as I thought of what my mother would do once she found out what I had done. I quickly tied up my hair into a ribbon and glanced at myself in the mirror. My mother wouldn't be home until late tonight, so I pushed the thoughts out of my head and grabbed my school bag. Without another glance in the mirror, I headed to school.
It had been several weeks since the night I had gone with Gordie and Chris to their sunset place. After that night, I realized that the way I dressed, what I ate, everything was what my mother had wanted for me. I did not like dressing the way I did, I was just so used to it. And I did not like living off of peanut butter and water, I was just used to it.
So I began making my own decisions instead of my mother..this, of course, resulted in several bruises and cuts to me. I didn't mind though, my mother's blows to my head weren't going to stop me from being whom I was.
But I knew she couldn't do much. The baby was do any day and I pitied the baby. Why must it be born into such a horrible world? It is not fair for someone to be born into such a terrible place..yet somehow this new baby gave me hope, that for some reason God still brings new life to the earth..and that gave me faith.
When I got to school I quickly walked to my locker, pulling my sweater closer to me. I quickly threw all the books I didn't need into my locker and headed to homeroom. On my way there, I ran into Gordie who smiled at me.
"Hey Celeste," he said grinning. I smiled back.
"Hi."
We talked for a bit and after a few moments I waved good bye and went into homeroom. It felt pretty good to have someone to talk to. I usually never had anyone; my best friend Colette Wiston moved away several years ago and I missed her very badly. Ever since then I never really grew close to any girls as best friends nor anyone. It was nice talking to Chris and Gordie routinely.
I sat down at my seat in homeroom and began to zone out like usual. I seemed to be depressed all the time. Was there really a reason for me to live anymore? My mother hated me, I had no friends, no father, no family..What was happening to me? Why bother?
"Hey Celest."
I looked up and my heart fluttered for some odd reason as I looked into the warm eyes of Chris Chambers.
"Hi," I said softly. He sat down beside me.
"What are you doing after school today?" He asked me. I grinned.
"Most likely homework..that's about it," I replied.
"Do you want to hang out with Gordie and me? We'll be at his house so you can just come over after you go home."
I smiled at him. "Okay, sure."
He studied me for a moment then noticed my hair. "Hey-you got a haircut!"
I laughed. "You're a fast one.."
He smiled. My heart fluttered again. What was wrong with me? "It looks nice," he said.
I felt myself blushing and looked down. "Erm..thanks."
What was going on with me? I was fifteen years old, not five years old! I pushed the confusing thoughts out of my mind and laid my head down for the rest of homeroom, praying to God that Chris didn't notice my blush.
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