Echo

Into the Lion's Den

Red?

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me," I say, unable to stop the grumbling as I take in the long red gown that hangs from peg outside my closet. Whoever chose it must hate me because it's everything I explicitly said that I did not want. Not that I have much of a voice in anything regarding this stupid party tonight. After being led astray by my cousin, Sophie Delaney, I was either going to be grounded for the rest of my life or I was going to have to woman up and be 'normal' for an evening. But, really, a red dress? "Like dyeing my hair wasn't torture enough."

I pride myself on being different to everyone else. Fuck the status quo, is my motto. I mean, where was the use in being a sheep, and trying to fit in when really, we're all born to stand out? If God had wanted us to all be the same, then why weren't we all carbon copies of each other? Why don't we all have blonde hair, blue eyes and look like Gisele Bundchen? The answer is simple: we're not supposed to be like everyone else. It's hard enough at times to be just myself, let alone trying to be someone I'm not. I tried, I hated it, and so I gave up trying to be like them.

The day I realised that there was no use in me pretending to be someone I'm not to make someone I hate like me, I gave up the pretence. I decided to colour my hair, dress differently, and not worry about what other people thought of me. Fuck them if they couldn't deal with the real me. Including my mother, who is so far beyond exasperated with both my attitude and appearance, she's practically disowned me. If it wasn't for the fact that my father thought this whole thing was 'mildly hilarious' and a 'phase', I think Mum would have shunned me as much privately as she does publically. I mean, the woman would never be caught dead with me.

"Oh, her?" She would say, casting her cold blue eyes in my general direction. "I have no idea who she is."

That's complete bollocks, of course. Apart from the weird eye situation I have going on, I'm the spitting image of Mum. Huh, maybe that's another reason I decided to change how I look.

As soon as I was old enough, I took my pocket money down to Fitzpatrick's drug store and bought three bottles of hair dye. One was vibrant pink, another bright green and the last was a blue so dark that it was practically black. I remember not being able to decide which colour I wanted to buy, which is how I ended up with three. The beauty of the hair dyes was the fact that they were those temporary ones that would last a week or two before washing out. That night, I coloured my hair green.

"Keira!" My mother gasped when I entered the kitchen the following morning. "Your hair!"

Yep, it was no longer that weird mousy brown colour that had never suited me. Naturally, my hair was too light to be considered brown and too dark to be blonde, so it was always in that strange in-between. Changing my hair was stage one in moving on from being Keira Delaney. Next, I got my ears pierced. Admittedly, I had the lower ones done when I was two years old, but a few years ago, I went to town on puncturing holes into my ears.