Being Shot

P h o t o #47 - Me

P h o t o #47 - Me

Deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Repeat. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The mantra that has often helped me through times of distress buzzed in my brain.

I shut my eyes, really getting a feel for the fresh air I was breathing in as I gripped down on the edge of Kayla's bedroom windowsill with all of my feeble strength. I focused on the damp, grassy smell wafting through her bedroom, the way it encircled my body as the slushy snow slowly melted under the winter sun while the patches of exposed greenery in the backyard swayed to the beat.

"Um, Emma?" I heard Kayla call out hastily behind me, probably wondering just what the heck I was doing the moment she got back from the bathroom with her box of tools, "Are you...okay over there?"

The death grip my hands held was released as I raised them, waving off her questions and I took in another deep inhale, "Yeah, yeah...Just, can I have a minute, please?" I asked her softly, never hearing a reply from her as she set up her tools, imagining the uneasy nod she sent my back before doing so.

I balled my fists together, chanting to myself in order to get myself ready. There was no way I was going back on my decision, I couldn't back down now. This was something I had to do, something I needed to accomplish. If I was ever going to live with my past rather than allow it to overtake me, I was going to have to let go of one of the main aspects that bound me to it.

Finally prying open my eyes, determination sparked in my heated gaze as it met with the wet land below. I turned on my heels, holding my head high as I strutted across the room, passed Kayla completely as I eyes nothing but my reflection in her ever-so-oversized mirror, and sat myself down in her chair.

I almost glared at the matted, frizzy hair I had removed from my thick ponytail not too long before, the locks I used as a shield from the world around me ever since I began skipping my hair appointments in freshman year.

Kayla fanned out a bathroom towel around my neck, letting her long fingers run through and smooth little knots here and there, "I know I was the one who suggested it, but are you sure you really want to go through with it?"

I removed my glasses from my face after I took one last look - the last look I'll ever have of this hairstyle - and set them amongst the multiple bottles and products strewn across it, nodding as I did so, "Yes, I'm sure." My determination never left my dark irises as I turned her way, staring at the blurry blob that was my friend as I shot her a smile, "Now hurry up before I change my mind."

Even through my awful vision, the excited look she gave me was unmistakable. My eyes fluttered shut just as I watched her hands reach for the sharp, slick metal scissors she had shown me before, "And you're sure you know what you're doing?" I asked once again.

I could literally feel her arms cross behind my head, "I told you, girls from my university come up to me all the time for hair care. You could say I'm a little popular there because of it." She took hold of a chunk of my hair, her touch gentle, "Even guys approach me from time to time; recently I cut one of my guy friend's hair and he looks completely different! In a better way, of course." A small pause, a playful wink, then a continuation, "He's actually supposed to be at the party tonight, so I'll have to introduce you two. As a matter of fact, his hair almost reminds me of yours. Dark and unmanageable."

"Thanks," I breathed out, shaking my head with a grin.

The sound of scissors snipping in the air rang out, "No problem," She answered with another snip, "we'll fix that."

I couldn't help the small flinch that jerked my shoulders once she began snipping designated tufts of my hair, nor could I stop the muffled yelps that escaped my clamped lips from progressing with each cut.