I adjusted my jeans as I walked down the street, my handbag in hand. I pushed my sunglasses up, avoiding any attention. A few people snapped pictures but I ignored it and kept searching for a pharmacy. I find one at the end of the street to my left and turn to walk into it when someone asks for a picture while tugging at my arm. I don't even turn to look around and just open the door, stepping inside. I close the glass door behind me and walk to the counter, where a pharmacist is arranging some boxes and shit.
"Um, hi," I greet. She turns around and smiles.
"Hello, Miss Bartra," she greets back. I nod and shudder at my name. Disgusted at my own name, I ask her for white hair dye, light purple and icy blue. She looks shocked, seeing her facial expression. She nods slowly and comes back with three Tony hair dyes. All with the colours I requested. I pay the money and walk out with a pharmacy plastic bag and its contents in my hand. I bow my head and walk quickly home. As I fumble for my keys, I hear some people calling my name behind me. Some calling rude stuff and some supportive shit.
I open the door and quickly step inside, closing it behind me. I take off my shoes and make sure Marc isn't home before I dash into the bathroom. He's not here so I walk into the bathrooms, adjusting the mirror and open the hair dyes, stirring them in a hair dye bowl with a comb's tip. I then take a paintbrush and rub the gooey liquid onto my hair. Being a professional and hair dying, I carefully apply white hair dye for dips and mix the purple and blue together, giving a purplish bluish colour. I wash my hair and blow dry it before looking at myself in the mirror. I decided to surprise myself.
As I unbend, I smile devilishly. I've recovered again. After a little depression, I'm back to normal. Perhaps, giving a full change would be good. A bit of change now and then won't hurt, right?
~next day~
"Okay, so, you want a new passport?" Steve asks. I nod desperately. He does the same back and starts doing some computer stuff I don't understand.
"So, when were you born?"
"Um, seventh September, nineteen ninety."
"Name of father?"
"Uh, Daniel Somerset."
"Name of mother?"
"Okay, how about, Georgia Hens?"
"Alright. Passport number?"
"You choose."
"How about fourteen forty five?"
I nod. I hand him a fifty note and thank him.
After making my new ID and certification, I run home and pack my stuff. I had reserved my tickets to Greece earlier on and my flight was in three hours. I really wanted to leave without a sound. Without anyone knowing. To some, this might sound like a dumb and absurd decision but, hey, give the girl a chance.
I run with my suitcase to the door and close it behind me, making sure Marc didn't arrive the same time. I quickly got a cab and arrived at the airport. Sitting for a while at Costa Coffee with a tapping foot in nervousness did not help. I got up, deciding I should get a drink. I walked to the counter and ordered a Iced Toffee.
"Your name, ma'am?"
I swallowed. "Avril." And smiled. Avril Lavigne's songs helped me. She inspired me. So, why not dedicating my name to her? The waiter nods and walks to a machine where she blends some stuff in it and then pours it into a plastic cup with a lid on top. With a black marker, she scribbles 'Avril' in curled italics. I thank her and pay before walking to my seat. But sitting there alone, with nobody seated on the chair across from me, it gives me the urge to cry. I left without Marc knowing. He doesn't know yet, but if he comes home and doesn't see me, at first he might think I'm our with friends. What he doesn't know is that I'm gone forever.
Probably, after six hours he'll attempt calling me. But once he sees that my number is out of the coverage area, he'll probably have either a stroke, heart attack or freak attack. I shake the thoughts off and think about my new life. I think about how depressed I have been since three years ago. I think now's the time for recovery. Speaking of recovery. I should listen to some James Arthur.
I thrust in my headphones and play Recovery. The lyrics that are deeper than the Niagara Falls. I sigh and sip on my Toffee drink. Surprised nobody asks to take any pictures or get any autographs. Have I changed that much?
I take out the new phone I bought from X-Cite in the airport and open the lock. I've downloaded a few pictures and wallpapers from the internet. I had gotten an unlimited call session and a free network/hotspot. I choose a supernova picture and set it as my lock screen. And for my home screen, I choose a picture with the quote: Fear doesn't shut you down. It wakes you up.
I smile and install Instagram. I create an account by the name @AvrilSomer_ and arrange a password for my self. In an instant, I gain a feed and post a quote 'The higher I get, the lower I'll sink, I can't drown my demons; they know how to swim'. I sigh, knowing this quote will always be by my side. A faithful friend. Faithful words.
Within an hour, my flight calls and I get up, grabbing my rolling case and my handbag. I adjust my bun and my pants as I get up. I put down my drink, remembering the last time I went to a coffee shop with my brother. I shake it off again and walk out the shop, stepping towards my gate. A few people stop and stare because of my hair colour. I know it looks weird (to others) but to me, it looks just fine. After all, I am Avril Daniel Somerset.
