I Don't Really Know...

Chapter 38: Need A Change, Got A Change

“Ms. Lasdon?  I want a haircut.”

 

She gives me a dirty glare.  “Why?”

 

“I need a change.” I drop my bag onto the dining room table and grab my wallet.  “I’m gonna walk down the street to that salon...what’s it called?” I need a change.  Quick.

 

“Joe’s Salon?  I guess, whatever.”  I could get run over by a car.  Murdered, kidnapped.  She doesn’t care.  

 

Right now, I’m glad she doesn’t.  I begin my walk, wishing I could smile.  Even though I’m happy I’m getting this change...the tree of remorse, guilt, sadness-still violently growing in my stomach.

 

I pat my pocket, slipping my hand into the little hole, feeling the camera.  I can’t let it out of my sight.  

 

I, Zoie Linda, vow to watch at least one video on that camera tonight.

 

There are dozens, all the videos with one girl, just talking to the camera. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep that vow.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*

“You want that big of a change?  Are you sure?” The hairdresser questions, her dyed green hair flowing softly down onto her shoulders.  

 

“Yes.  Just do it.”

 

I hear the hairdresser discussing everything she needs to a fellow coworker, who rushes into a back closet retrieving everything, as I sit in the chair nervously.

 

“The usual, Trisha.” I hear near me, an unbelievably curvy woman with stilettos rushing towards the sound.  

 

“Miss. Wilkaz!  Our most beloved customer.” The lady pats Vanessa on the back, as I hide behind my-before gone-hair.  Vanessa laughs, sitting in a chair on the other side of the room.  Thank god.  THe woman-Trisha-rushes toward her with a box of hair dye.

 

“Is the hair dye fading again, Vanessa?” Trisha sighs, placing the box on the table near them and leading Vanessa over to wash her hair.  “Your natural colored hair is gorgeous, you know.”

 

Vanessa fumes, sitting up and spraying water everywhere.  “No, I have to be platinum blonde.  I have to!”

 

I can only see them through the mirror conveniently placed next to me.  Vanessa’s face is purple, and Trisha looks around at the other people, giggling nervously.

 

“Vanessa, calm down sweetie.  Of course I’ll do it, but your regular hair color-”

 

“DARK BROWNISH BLONDE ISN’T GORGEOUS!” She frightfully whispered, seething.  I leaned closer towards the mirror, now seeing streaks of brown in her hair.