Shape Shifting Love

Chapter Four

Chapter 4

Mason

We sit out in the cold, Michaela eating a cookie she brought out with her but I just pick at mine, making crumbs on the floor. Her new look is so, I don’t know, her thick black eyes and tightly fitting clothes, not the old her. But I like it much better; she’s taken my mind off all of what’s happening. The way she looks so vigilant and brave just making me forget what I was so upset about. But all I can think about is why she changed from the ballet flats, pink loving girl to chunky black boots and black clothes not to mention the make-up. I mean it’s not that I don’t like it; I actually think she looks better.

It’s also too quiet that it’s awkward. So I’m going to say something, I don’t know what I want to say so I just ask her, “What’s up with the new look?” realising my tone sounded too questioning and off so I add, “Not that I don’t like it and all I was just wondering?” She puts down her cookie, and just shrugs and sighs. Brushing her long black hair back, that she has dyed a strip pink, off her face. Looking me in the eyes, those beautiful hazel-brown eyes gazing straight into mine. “I don’t know,” she tells me “maybe I just wanted a change that’s all, what do you think?” her face immediately lighting up as she looks at me for an answer. Her glistening hair and long black and purple knee high socks followed by a short black pleated skirt. Everything perfectly complementing each other, “You couldn’t look any better” I tell her with a hint of a smile on my face, as she smiled back at me in return. Then that awkward silence returns again. 

The cool summer breeze nipping at my cheeks and blowing Michaela’s long black hair in a way that makes her face look perfect and bright as she continues to eat her cookie she had put down. But I wish I could hear what she is thinking about, how she is coping with all of this. Because last time I saw her she was sobbing behind a mask of running mascara. But now she looks as if no-one could hurt her in any way possible. The way that she has gone from her former self to this that amazes me most. It’s like someone has flicked a light switch and she just changed, just like that. I still wonder even though she has changed her appearance and the way she presents herself, does she still really thinks the same and has just buried her past self-deep down inside just in case she is needed any time soon?

Just as I’m about to ask her a black ford pulls up alongside the pavement. The strange looking man emerges from the car followed by a tall, skinny fair haired woman, carrying a briefcase. They walk up the gravel driveway of Michaela’s front lawn towards where we sit on the wooden porch. I drop the remains of my cookie to the floor, even though I hadn’t eaten any of it to start with. We both stand in front of them and pick up our bags to follow them towards the car, as they both gesture for us to climb into the back seats and make our way to where we will probably live and try to get over the past few hours in our own time. But I don’t see how we can, well how I can at least.

As we drive along a busy freeway all Michaela does is stare out at the blurry world passing by. A world I don’t know how if I can live in any more. And as soon as this car ride is over all I know is that I have to look after Michaela. Even though she doesn’t look like she wants watching out for, but I know she needs it.