Dying to Breathe

1.1: the awaiting unknown

Chapter 1, Part 1: The Awaiting Unknown

The night of Penelope Jones' eighth birthday, she took scissors to her long raven black hair and cut the strands clean off. Her parents, having stressed all throughout her life the importance of individuality, were at a loss for words when she came out of the bathroom with chunks of hair missing from her head. Her mother sat her down that night, and for the first time, spoke of this thing called her 'final and complete self'—that one day, she'd feel relief in her skin and there would be no need for anymore changes.

It was a long two years before Penelope decided to experiment with her hair again.

At ten years old, Penelope successfully pulled the ink out of her many markers and stuck the mixed, gooey substance in her hair. As the combined solution of chemicals bleached the raven strands in orange patches, Penelope found her burning passion for yellow—which quickly turned to a love for blonde. This began the seven-year ritual where, eventually, Millie and her would bleach her hair in the bathtub until her hair perfectly captured the sun in its locks. At seventeen, she felt that her journey to her 'final and complete self' was nearly complete.

And then everything changed in a single, unforgettable night—the night Millie disappeared. And with this abrupt uprooting of everything that she had believed, she transformed. Once again, she found herself desperately searching for her self-identity.

She stood at the mirror, her skin still damp from the cold shower as the tinted droplets rolled down her goosebumps. Taking a deep breath, she stared into her mirror self's cold green eyes. She saw unspeakable agony in the colour, but the unwavering strength was louder. She braced herself, dropping the towel from her head a moment later. Black strands—the colour of the impenetrable dark night stained forever in her memories—settled around her within seconds. In a brief instant, as her dyed hair covered her identity, the girl in the mirror slipped into the image of her sister. But with a blink, the glimpse vanished, replaced by a new, unfinished version of herself.

For the first time in excruciatingly long months, she felt motivation burn through her bloodstream: she was ready for her new life.

Penelope still had determination wrinkled along her brow-line as she boarded the small plane a few hours later. Her eyes were glued to the plane window as everything she once knew became smaller and smaller, and eventually, disappeared within the white clouds completely. As her town faded into the abyss, she inhaled deeply, pushing the perfect blonde girl that she had been far down to the depths of something unreachable. Then proceeded to bury her beneath impenetrable layers of guilt and grief—leaving only hope and faith on the surface. Releasing the pent-up breath burning in her lungs, she exhaled her past. All the invisible weights that held her chained down her whole life, simply... fell away.

She felt as if she were floating.

The unknown stood beckoning to her and for the first time in her life, she was finally going to see what it wanted with her.