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WITH THE CLOCK reading out the time for it to be around three in the morning, any logical person would assume this to be the worst time to make any drastic appearance changes. No doubt before the first day of the seventh grade. In the case of the eleven year old who made a stop on her skateboard over to the local shop that morning to buy the blonde hair dye, she cared less about the dramatics this all seemed to play out to be.
Her cassette player was currently at a low enough volume for her to be able to listen to it. Some parts being too quiet for her to catch but she was rather focused on making sure her hair wasn't going to fall out before she got onto the school grounds. Part of her knew she wasn't going to dramatically transform into Jane Fonda by the end of this though her attempts were enough to convince her that she could at least do something. An identity crisis with an impulse as terrible as hers left her with also the easiest solution to the problem.
That, and the Barbarella soundtrack on a loop set the perfect tone.
Back into bed with her hair still covered out of fear of staining her sheets and causing another argument with her absent mother she shut her eyes momentarily. This feeling like only a brief intermission between her finally going to sleep and the sound of her alarm ringing off on the bedside. Screaming internally as a means to console herself she got up out of bed, nearly collapsing out of lack of sleep.
Her brother soon rudely bursted through her door to throw her skateboard at her; had his aim not been terrible she would have gotten hit right in the face. Turning back to him annoyed he merely gave her smug grin. "I thought you'd be asleep still what with keeping yourself up all night."
"You could've hit me."
"Wish I did." He got up from leaning along her doorway to make his way to the kitchen. "You've got like 15 minutes, hurry up." Considering she didn't mind going on her own way but still not wanting to be blamed for him having to stick around to wait for her she rushed through her routine.
Switching out tapes to the Shout of the Devil album she hurriedly teased her hair in the mirror before settling on the frizzy appearance. Stopping on her way out with an idea coming up she searched through the drawers to find her mother's make-up. Seeing the smeared bottle of mascara she heavily applied some herself before making it out the door with only a toast in her mouth and her backpack barely hanging onto her arm.
Needles only stared at her attempts to seem older along with the blonde head of hair still half done as the original brown was still prominent in her roots. Already down to the curb on her board she took out the bread from her mouth to wave her arms to him. "We leavin' or not." Heaving a breath trying to catch up with her, he soon followed suit just behind her.
