( hey! so I made some magical boy/girl characters with friends cause I had this idea, so here it goes! i'll post art of what each character looks like!)
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( Knife)
You know what I hate?
I hate the way the sky is mocking me with it's cloudy gray.
I loathe the way lovesick poets write blood as beautiful ribbons when it is just red.
Red and dead.
I don't really like the color red.
While I enjoy what it stands for: Passion, fire, blood, energy, war, danger, strength, as well as determination and desire, it's so emotionally intense that I can't stand to focus on it for too long.
Maybe that's why I gravitate toward neon green- the opposite on the color wheel and then some.
My eyes are green, so it does good brightening wise to wear it.
Right now my boots are sludge green, with chunky bottoms to make me 5'10 instead of 5'8 while I survive the day and cut hair. Like some posh gay best friend in a rom-com, or version 3 of Mean Girls, I'm in a tattered crop top with lime green straps at my shoulders, the little hoops at my collarbones, begging to be tugged on. In a way my hair matches my shorts. They both look a little messy- the cutoffs holding on to tears of fabric, exposing the pale freckles on my thigh, and my hair is windswept and slanted spikes like some fuck boy Dreamworks character in the running.
Despite my struggles with red, my 1/8 ear gauges are crimson and a near constant staple of my wardrobe.
Maybe in a way I fear and admire red, like some sort of wayward temptress.
I snipped away at a ladies' ashen fallen hair, not really paying attention to what she was telling me. Typically I'm attentive and genuine with all of my customers but she always seemed to have the same problems with her son each month she came in. She never did anything different with her hair either. She wouldn't let my style it, nor cut it past her shoulders or add even a few strips of color. There's nothing wrong with being comfortable, but I feel like your hair is the one thing you should be willing to experiment with.
The worst it can do is take a while to fade in hue or grow back.
Any which way, while she droned on about how Steve wouldn't come to visit her, because he was busy with his new wife and 4 children, I snipped her hair across the way she liked it- no layers, no pizzazz, I occasionally glanced in the mirror where I could see my little sister, Angel, in the reflection. She'd just walked down half an hour ago from school and was to wait until I got off at 2:30, which wasn't too far off. Miss boring, simple Nancy Nan was my last scheduled costumer for today, so we would head home soon. The girl never noticed me spy her. She was too focused on pretending to eat a sandwich, my co-worker, Teresa, had brought her when she'd come back from lunch at 1. She would bring the bread up to her mouth and almost seem to bite it, her jaw chewing her tongue while she so clearly, at least to me, stuffed the bite into the sleeve of her Care Bear sweatshirt. I think her habits are hyper sensitive to me because I love her so much. We've talked about her eating disorder, and I won't make her go to therapy until she wants to. For now, I just monitor at home, which believe me is hard, especially when I can't trust her to take a shower after dinner without throwing up, but i want to trust her. I mentally planned on making supper one of her favorites: Beef and broccoli with white rice. She'd established and explained, ' Safe foods' with me. I did my best to understand, and try to help her eat the things she liked, but it's odd she's fine with eating a sucker, but not a pack of crackers.
I never struggled with an eating disorder before, nor knew anyone else personally who does or did, so I don't really understand what she's going through. I take medication for my ADHD and panic disorder but at the height of my mental disabilities I guess that's it.
well.. I like pain, but that's a separate tantalising disaster.
Drawing me from my morbid pondering and blurring the vision of Angel in my sight, was the ladies' congratulatory words as she felt a hand through the same locks we've stared at for months, "Great job a always~"
My smile came on more earnest than I felt, and I half bowed, not helping but to slip in a subtle jab, with my compliment, "I think I've perfected the art of repetition ma'am: you're an easy woman to please."
She laughed in that way that fake people do- when it's more in their nose, before paying me and going on her way. When she was safe out the door, I dramatically leaned on Teresa's shoulder as she wiped down her brushes and silver shiny utensils, "Ah God, pray someone comes in tomorrow and wants their head cut off or at least wants me to put a braid in their hair!"
She patted me like a mother and laughed me off, "Oh boy, be glad, and I bet tomorrow someone will waltz in wanting early 2000's scene emo hair."
My knees nearly buckled at the thought and I clawed at the air, "With hot pink hair extensions PLEASE..." my groan elicited another round of chuckles and then some from Angel, who had hopped up on her toes, ready to run out of the place.
Teresa hugged my side, releasing me, " You babies go on home; I'll clean your station this time."
Snatching up my bag, I pecked her cheek, sister in my tracks,
" You're the best T!"
"Mhm."
Don't get me wrong, I really love what I do, but there's nothing like going home.
I slammed the car door too hard, starting the engine which allowed an early Nickelback song to drum through the speakers again. It wasn't up very much, but enough to feel like a movie scene if you gazed out the window long enough. I pretended not to notice when a crumb fell out of Angel's sleeve when she buckled herself in and pulled out of the miniature parking lot.
Like yesterday, the sky way gray, but it refused to rain. It was just cloudy, muggy and persistently humid as hell.
The sunset haired girl spoke softly, her light crimson eyes in a lovey dovey state.
"The sky is pretty..."
She sighed it out, as though gushing about a movie star.
My lips twitched a bit in a contented smile.
What I thought was boring and a blockade, she saw as a gift of beauty.
I rounded the corner to take us home, glancing at the sky again,
