bitter | e.d

| twenty-four

I don't look like me.

when I look at myself in the mirror, it's like a whole other person is staring back at me. someone I don't recognize. someone who's gone to hell and back. but then I look closer, and I see the darkness. I see the emptiness in those lost eyes, like a burnt out fuse. 

that's me, all right.

my hands reach up and feel my hair—the only physically changed thing about me. it's funny how I have to reach up higher to touch it now. because it's short. I'm a girl with short hair. 

I'll have to get used to that. 

"what do you think?" the chipper hairdresser with a bubbly personality asks me. she moves my hair around to style it better, using the mirror in front of me to check how it looks until it's to her satisfaction.

I don't realize I'm making a displeased face until I see her frown. quickly, I plaster on a smile and awkwardly give her an approving nod. "it's nice," I tell her in as happy a voice as I can muster.

she doesn't buy it. she places her hands on the back of my chair and sighs. "hun, I see clients in and out of here about twenty times a day. you think I don't know a dissatisfied customer when I see one?" she shakes her head for emphasis. 

"I'm not dissatisfied," I clarify. "my hair looks nice. seriously, you did a good job." I offer a more genuine smile now to try and reassure her.

me not liking it is a personal issue. it's not anything she did to it. maybe I just need to give it some time. it might grow on me now that it's cut properly.

"alright, alright." she shrugs and seems to surrender. "for the record, it's not like you came in here just needing a regular trim. you gave me a challenge today. I don't think I've ever seen hair more uneven." she shudders like she's reliving the moment I walked in. "you must've used a lawn mower to achieve that look."

she says this with a curious tone, like she's hinting for me to correct her and explain what actually happened. that, I can't do. so I stay silent.

"I also noticed a pretty nasty bruise back here," she decides to add when I don't comment anything. "I don't know if these are correlated or anything, but I feel obligated to ask, is everything okay back at home?" 

my body starts to tense up involuntarily at her prying. my eyes look past her in the mirror towards the waiting area in the back, where andrew is waiting for me. he's sitting and flipping through a magazine about women's health.

I know he wouldn't like for me to tell some stranger what he did to me. they wouldn't understand. they'd take it the wrong way and think he's abusing me. hurting me. then they'll blow the whole situation way out of proportion and I'll get stuck in some foster care system. 

that can't happen. I need andrew.

I only glance at him one more moment before looking back at the hairdresser. "yeah, everything's fine. I was just babysitting a pretty rambunctious boy on friday and he loves to play fight. the concrete sidewalk was not a great choice on my part." 

"oh!" she exclaims, then starts laughing like she's relieved. "well, that explains it. young boys can be so hard to control sometimes." she nods understandingly. "let me guess, he's the one who decided to give you that new hairdo?" she adds jokingly.

I take this opportunity to run with it. "yeah! exactly. one of his favorite games is playing barbershop and little did I know he got a hold of real scissors," I laugh despite the fact that I'm lying straight through my teeth. "it's all good, though. I had you to save me!" 

she makes a proud face. "of course, love. you need me, I'm here. and let me just say, with this new look, the boys are going to be all over you." again, she fluffs up my hair and then shimmies her shoulders. "I know you're not the biggest fan of it yet, but change is good. believe me when I say you look stunning."