Dark Angel

Chapter 13

This Saturday has been long awaited and well deserved. I’m so glad just to have a couple of days to myself without having to worry about what people are saying about me all around me or having my best friends finding out things they shouldn’t be finding out. It’s been a crazy week and I can’t take another minute of it. I just want to rip my hair out.

I can’t doubt that plenty of people heard what happened at our lunch table yesterday, and so I know the rumors are going to spread. I’m going to be the cutter girl with an abusive boyfriend. Man, when did Devin Munroe become that girl? I swear I look like such a poser or a girl trying to hide the truth by staying who I am while cutting and being in my situation. I mean, with where I am now, I’m practically emo. Well, maybe not. But, if people are going to start thinking I am, why not look how they are to take away one more thing for them to make fun of me for? They can’t say I’m trying to be something I’m not if I look like the cutter girl.

I can’t drive anywhere because I just got my permit a couple weeks ago, so I have to walk. The mall isn’t that far from my house, so why not? I bet I can make it there in ten minutes. All I have to do is get my mom to let me out of the house. I know it won’t be a problem, so I just tell her that I’m going to the mall and I’m out the door.

The first place I go when I get there is Hot Topic. They have good clothes here, and I need some new stuff. So, I pick up an Avenged Sevenfold sweatshirt and a couple of band t-shirts like Asking Alexandria and Bullet For My Valentine, as well as a black pair of skinny jeans. I also notice their jewelry display case and get a wild idea.

After Hot Topic I go to Spencers to check out some of the jewelry they have there. I’ve always liked the little tie necklaces they have and their cool studded belts. There’s not much I can buy there that isn’t sex related. I’m not looking to advertise sex; I’m just willing to go emo. All I leave Spencers with is a purple and black necklace that has a small tie on it and a black belt with silver studs.

Fishbone is my favorite place to check because they have the shoes I want. I’ve already spent a lot of money that I was saving for a really long time, but hey, this has been a pretty good use of my cash. So, I decide to pick up a sweatshirt with the Monster energy drink logo on it while I’m there, but decide not to get shoes because my black Chuck Taylors will do just fine.

The last place I go is a store called Sally Beauty Supply. They have exactly what I need for my hair there. I grab a box of black hair dye, bleach, bright purple, and bright blue hair dyes. I also get some twelve-inch black hair exntentions. On my way out I also pick up a bottle of liquid eyeliner and get ready to make my way home.

Once I’m at home I watch youtube video after youtube video on how to cut my hair right. When I’m finally ready, I start snipping bits off of my auburn hair to create the edgy layers I see online. It doesn’t take long, and it’s really not that difficult. The look is supposed to be rough, so I can just take off some hair to create a couple of layers and chop up my bangs and I’m ready to go.

The bleach smells really nasty. I can't believe I'm actually putting this stuff in my hair, but I have to have my hair light enough for the blue and purple to actually show up. If I leave it my natural color, the blue will be a sickly green and the purple will be a grayish puke color. I don't need my hair looking like that.

Once my hair is completely blond, I rinse every last bit of bleach out of it. This takes awhile because I'm basically drowning my hair and I need to make sure it's good and dead. All right, not literally, because I don't want terrible hair. But in the world of similes and personification, I need to murder my hair by drowning it so long I know it'll stay dead.

I pick up my hair dryer and get to work on my now blond hair. This is the weirdest thing ever looking in the mirror and seeing this bleach blond girl stare back at me. I look like I could be a pale version of those girls who prefer to strut around in a bikini twenty-four-seven year round. I hate being this blond. Thank god it's going to be black in less than an hour.