Impractical

The Warehouse

2:5

When we both were done organizing our stuff, she invited me to sit in the huge, comfy beanbag chair, and I gladly accepted.

"Put your feet in this tub and relax." Dymond suggested, too kind of a remark to be an order. It was a small tub full of hot water that had a faint smell of flowers, except less fruity and more sweet. Dymond set to work, trimming my toenails, pushing back my cuticles, getting rid of hangnails, scraping off dead skin, painting them with a clear coat, and finishing it off with a massage. I had absolutely no clue what any of that stuff was when she explained it to me, but it felt ridiculously good, especially the massage part. She did the exact same things with my hands, and in the end, it all looked amazing.

Dymond moved onto the beauty part of the treatment. She explained to me that this would hurt a lot. Like more than I had ever felt, but in the end, my skin would look perfect. Once my nails had dried, Dymond dressed me into a fuzzy white robe with a rope knotted around the waist. This thing is more ridiculous than a skirt with a sweatshirt, I thought grudgingly. The short length of it didn't matter so much when I was sitting down, but it wasn't exactly comfortable.

"Once I am done with this, you will feel and look great and won't have hair for about four months, but please don't scream or yell." Dymond asked me. I had no idea what she was going to do, but I didn't like the sounds of it.

"I'm going to start on your face because it hurts the most." Dymond put 'wax' over top of my upper lip and surrounding my eyebrows.

"I'm going to tear it off really quick, and it will only hurt for a second." Dymond grabbed the wax and tore it off, and it hurt, but I had promised not to make any noise so I didn't.

Dymond did the same things with my arms and legs, and then put lotion on the places she 'waxed' me. It didn't hurt or sting anymore, and I did look better without all of those layers of fur. Dymond gave me the lotion she had used on me to put on every day. It smelled like cinnamon and I liked it.

I put back on my regular clothes and Dymond and I moved onto the face part of the beauty treatment. Dymond led me to the white door on the right side of the room, the one that I didn't know what was behind it. It was a bathroom that connected our two rooms, with her door on the other side. To the right of it was a counter with two sinks and a large mirror, and to the left was a door that led to the bathtub/shower and toilet. There was a thin hallway between the counter and door with our two bedroom doors on opposite sides of it. It was the nicest bathroom I had ever seen.

"You need to wash your face and put lotion on it." Dymond said, holding up the face wash and lotion. I bent over the sink and cleaned all of the gathered up dirt, wax, and barbeque stains off of my face. I finally looked into the mirror and saw how different I looked. My eyes had a spark in them that I had never seen and my face looked less burdened and worn and had a renewed light to it. My whole body looked more confident and free, with the straight posture, free flowing hair and determined build. I looked different from that burdened and worn girl that was rescued that morning, not only on the inside now, but also on the outside. My face was without the hints of hair and red dots, it looked smoother and less crinkled. My body looked full of life with the navy blue top, skinny jeans, and thick brown belt. My whole life had been challenged with boredom and constantly being terrified, but now, I finally felt free of those bonds that were slowly destroying me. Not my physical self, my internal spirit. It had been withered and stretched to the point of breaking, but then, the four of them had come along and planted a renewed vigor and purpose in me. In short, I'm happy.

I walked out of the bathroom, feeling strange. My emotions were being mixed up, but two came out ontop. Joy, for being free of The Headquarters, and anger at what The Headquarters did to me and to every other person in the city.