ʜ ᴏ ʟ ʏ

13.

Instant regret. The unwanted feeling flushed through her body and settled at the pit of her gut. Not only that but the slow and painful throbs that suited the organ hidden behind her skull, a very dedicated headache. This is exactly what she deserved. In all her years of age, Bonnibel never expected herself to release in such manner, epsecially sexual encounters. What girl that sparked from within herself was not her at all. When would she ever skip class? Or engage in going under the influence during school? Or sleep with the principles daughter? Bonnibel wasn't sure of herself, but could very well acknowledge the shame that suited her whole. If only Marceline was here to speak some sense into her. Even on good behavior, it would still be awhile until she laid eyes upon her friend long gone. Not only was her day filled with a strong sense of deplore and headache, but there was something more important that made her chest swell. A meeting. Not just any meeting, oh no any other meeting would suit her more better than this one. Today was the scheduled meeting with her uncle. It was far unexpected, being that Bonnibel was on her best behavior, but she never knew what to expect from the man. Upon waking, the girl took care of her hygiene and dressed properly for the depriving eyes of the holy man, with high hopes that he wouldn't take away the clear skin of her face by bartering it with his bulky fist. And for the first time in a while, Bonnibel tried her best not to think of the things that weighed her down. Marceline's absence, the encounters with Vivian, and her awaiting uncle. It would only be good for her to enter with a new fresh state of mind and hopefully she would comply. Her eyes couldn't help but perk up at the sight of the darkened wooden pulling open with a creak. At the door stood a monitor, ready to fetch the girl upon his arrival. "Come along now." She drew her finger back and forth with a gesture. "Your Uncle awaits in the visitation room." Bonnibel didn't think twice before standing up and trailing behind the woman in lead. The chirp of her heels against the shiny tile bounced through the empty halls. Every girl was somewhere situated in class, as she should be, but this urgent meeting was far more important than her education. Not even a minute or two passed before the duo had arrived at the destination. The metal door stood abroad Bonnibel, almost the same as her mentality. Plenty of things were preventing her from entering the room that she couldn't handle it. Their was no excuse for the pain he inflicted upon his niece, but sooner or later she would have to face it. With awaiting eyes, Bonnibel yanked open the door by the cool handle in her grasp and entered the room. And there he sat, knee bouncing up and down from with anticipation, all black pastor attire with the tiny white strip down the middle, hands folded neatly atop of the table, and eyes planking his approaching niece. "Niece." He addressed. "Uncle." She acknowledged with a nod before placing herself on the stiff plastic of the chair. Bonnibel found herself settled through the silence of the room as the man attempted to form words. "As you may not believe, I haven't come here for your behavior or grades. I haven't gotten anything bad regarding those." She could say her chest sunk down in relif, air exiting from her nostrils with a sigh. "I have come regarding your change in life style." His posture straighed put firmly. The thought had grazed her mind of the exact reason she attened the boarding school in the first place, or as to why even the man was present. He only came to speak upon the progress. "I have faith that Saint Anne's has been doing a fine job in persuading you to a sin free life?" Rather than remark with a snarky comment, Bonnibel was smart with her choice of words. Their was no need to set the man in place if it meant more bruises to scatter her freshly healed face. "I've um..." Her tounge fumbled her words. "I am learning to be better." She gave hin exactly what he wanted to hear. "Well it doesn't quiet seem like it." His words took her by surprise. And to her disliking, the man disowned the chair he was once bound to and took to strutting around the room with his hands hooked behind his back. With a arched brow, she watched. "I've been in and out of town recently due to the traditional meetings of the pastors." His words brought back densed memories. For quite some time since her young age, the man would travel back and forth to towns with other pastors for the annual meet. Plenty of bible verses discussed, a word the of preachers, and of course Bonnibel herself. It was a pastors only meeting and all but where else could he dispose of the infant with no parents? With no wife and busy chruch folk, their weren't plenty to watch her. So there she would sit in the pews of the unknown church, examining the holy men with infant eyes. As she grew older she attended less and less with new found friends to keep her company upon his departure. Shaking herself out of her mind, Bonnibel listened to the spoken words. "The topic of homosexuality came up and we discussed plenty. We were focusing on things that triggered one into entering such lifestyle and ways it can be prevented." Her brain internally cringed at his words. "So that is why I'm here." Curiosity struck her more than her own fear. This couldn't be good. "Plenty of things like clothing, no gender roles, a messed up childhood or background, and any OTHER color hair than your own are pretty common within the pastors group. It seems like you weren't the only one suffering from it." She knew exactly where this was going but her mind didn't want to grasp the idea. Much denial was adjacent. "I have come to the conclusion that your colored hair and childhood could take part of the blame. It was a mistake allowing you to dye your hair as suggestive as it is, so im here to fix it." Bonnibel was going to protest, lips parted and throat unclenching but the man had beat her to it, calling out a name of one of the workers. And in a matter of seconds, the woman stepped in the room. The first thing her eyes set upon was the box of hair dye limp in her hands. The outside was littered with advertisements for her old hair color. Dark brown. Under all her semi faded pink locks was dark brown. Her words were launched deep down the back of her throat. Who was Bonnibel without her hair? Who was Bonnibel without pink? How would every one react? The questions flooded her mind. "Its been quite some time now that I let this hair dye nonsense go on. Were changing you back to normal."

There she sat, placed in the waters of the creek with her mind in the gutter. The smell of the hair dye was far to strong for the students in classes, so Bonnibel was excused of school for the day and now she was in the creek. To much of her dread, this was her hair now. Just as boring and plain as all the other girls who attended the school. The vibrant pink is what drew attention near and fit her personality well, but it was far gone now. The swift bangs that hung bellow her eyes were no longer pink, now back to the original dark brown. Not only did her natural hair color suck, but the sight of the creek brought back vivid visions of Marceline. This was supposed to be an escape from everything but her mind just wouldn't allow it. Ignoring herself, Bonnibel let the truffled waves of water lap against her exposed stomach. The water was cold to the touch but warm at heart. With a simple dip, Bonnibel was underneath the surface of the water, allowing it to consume her. Even though this wouldn't shed her hair dye, it was comforting to have the sounds drained from her ears and her body go numb to the mass of liquid. Maybe this is the break she needed.