Three years ago
French Alps. Harmony Springs Renewal Youth Wellness Institute.
"My dear, have you lost your mind?" Josephine exclaims in a loud whisper. "This is a medical facility, not a barber shop!"
"Josie, please," I sing-song in response.
I look with pleading eyes at the only nurse with whom I've developed a friendly relationship in this asylum. Josephine is quite young, almost my age. She's twenty-five and has been interning at Harmony Springs for half a year now.
During this time, I managed to get her into quite a lot of trouble. Out of the kindness of her heart, she fulfilled almost every request of mine, for which she gets a lot of scolding from the administration of our psychiatric hospital.
"Christine, one more reprimand and I'll be fired! I have just a little bit left to finish my internship. I don't want to risk my years in the university!" she adjusts the fresh sheet on my bed and looks at me, chastising me with a stern gaze.
Innocently, I twirl a lock of hair around my finger and fidget with my feet, sitting on the writing desk.
"But this will help with my treatment," I flutter my eyelashes. "You'll only make me better, and the doctors will thank you for my good behavior and fast recovery."
Josephine sighs heavily and turns to me after finishing tucking in the sheets.
"I don't understand how dyeing your hair will help you overcome drug addiction. I don't see any connection in that."
I jump off the table and pace my small single room, furnished with a bed, a writing desk with a chair, and a wardrobe. There isn't even a mirror here, which I've been terribly missing lately. The administration here is very afraid that the wealthy parents' crazy little darlings might injure themselves with sharp objects, and then they'll sue the hospital along with all its staff.
"I want to start a new life," I say soulfully, stopping right in front of Josephine. "You know, it's like after a breakup when you feel the urge to change your appearance, and you start with a new hairstyle? It's the same here. I feel like I'm getting rid of my inner demons... my addictions... I'm on the verge of something new and grandiose... And I physically need to refresh something about my appearance to become a new, healthy person."
Judging by Josephine's expression, my heartfelt monologue has impressed her. The full spectrum of her emotions, from skepticism to resignation, flashes before my eyes.
"Well, okay," she relents. "I won't be able to bring a hairdresser here, but I'll try to bring some dye and color your hair."
"Yay!" I squeal, jumping up and down and clapping my hands. "Josie, you're the best!"
"Be quiet," she hushes me, tapping me on the back when I leap into her arms. "I'll be back in a week; I'll try to bring everything we need."
My joy turns into disappointment, and I release the nurse from my embrace abruptly.
"What do you mean, in a week? I thought we were doing this tomorrow," I protest, placing my hands on my hips.
"Well, excuse me, I'll have a vacation," she shrugs, picking up dirty bedding from the floor. "Can't make it any sooner."
"Then convince someone else!" I insist.
"Christine," Josephine exhales wearily, pausing by the door with a pile of laundry. "Don't push it. Nothing will change in a week. You need to be patient."
With those words, she leaves my room, and a pillow follows her, hitting the door before falling to the floor.
***
Josephine turns out to be right, and indeed, nothing happens in a week. Absolutely nothing.
Ethan keeps his distance from me, only occasionally throwing me heavy glances. I still haven't figured out what happened to him that evening when we almost kissed. But every day I feel like I'm just not good enough for him.
I furiously tie my hair into a tight ponytail and hide it under my baseball cap. The sun is shining brighter today than ever, apparently in anticipation of Josie's return. Since early morning, I've been watching the clock, darting between the hospital's porch and the backyard, awaiting my favorite nurse.
Josephine appears just before the start of the evening shift. Through the arch between the dining hall and the foyer, I see her entering through the main entrance during dinner. In her hands, she carries a bulky bag, the same one she brings every time. I hope that today there's hair dye inside.
I finish dinner in a matter of minutes and run back to my room, ignoring the evening stroll before lights out. I don't want to see Ethan until my hair has the right color.
Exactly at nine o'clock, Josephine enters my room with two cups: one containing my usual set of pills, and the other filled with water to wash them down.
"Did you bring it?" I ask eagerly, jumping off the bed as soon as Josie closes the door behind her.
She just rolls her eyes and hands me the pills.
"While you were having dinner," Josephine nods towards the bedside table.
With trembling hands, I open it and find a jar of hair bleach powder, a bottle of developer, a tube of tinting dye, a plastic bowl, a brush, and a disposable cape.
"You're my fairy godmother!" I exclaim, hugging the treasured dye.
***
Josephine returns to my room a couple of hours after lights out, having finished all her necessary tasks, and attended the nursing meeting, after which everyone was sent to rest.
I'm waiting for her, fully prepared. I'm already wearing a disposable cape, and all the necessary supplies are laid out on the table.
"I hope you watched the tutorial videos on YouTube," I clarify, feeling her hesitantly parting my hair and applying the first strokes of dye.
"If you keep complaining, I'll turn you into a zebra," Josie mutters under her breath.
I obediently fall silent and close my eyes. The pills are pulling me relentlessly into sleep, but I hold on with all my strength, drifting on the waves of drowsiness.
"If you want a decent future," my mother's stern voice echoes in my head, "you must listen to your man in everything. Don't make my mistakes. He wants tasty food? Cook it. Don't know how? Take classes from his favorite chef. He wants you to give him a blowjob? Unbutton his pants right away and submit."
I pinch myself painfully on the skin of my arm to drive away the uninvited thoughts.
Ethan was right; I need to stop taking the pills they give us here. They make me feel awful. Always sleepy, dissatisfied, and my skin on my face is just terrible. Ethan wants a beauty, not a mopey mess like I've become.
About three and a half hours pass when Josephine finally speaks up for the first time:
"Your hair is so thick," she sighs wearily, distributing the remaining dye through my hair and plopping down on the edge of the bed.
"That's from my dad," I snort, remembering my father's thick raven-colored locks.
"In about thirty minutes, we'll wash it out, then tint it, and by then, I believe, it'll be time for breakfast," Josie carefully removes the gloves from her hands and rubs her reddened eyes.
I come down for breakfast in full glory. The blonde locks are styled in beautiful waves, thanks to Josephine's light hand and her hair curler. Everyone notices them, from the doctors to the patients who have never even spoken to me.
I feel like a movie star.
Especially when Ethan finally starts paying attention to me. His lips form a pleasant, warm smile. As if rewarding me for obeying him. A pleasant sensation spreads thick warmth in my chest.
YOU ARE READING
Forbidden Freedom
Romantizm"What are you doing here?" I hiss through clenched teeth, staring into the icy irises of his eyes. "Aren't you glad to see me?" He smirks, pressing me harder against the wall. "I recall you were more compliant at our last meeting." I swallow nervous...
