The Color of Music

Chapter 6-Early in the Morning

She dragged the flat iron down slowly. I watched my hair smoke, heard it sizzle and smelled a foul burn. It was straight now. My hair reached my back at full length. Lifeless and thin, but presentable.

My father was more upset my hair was so "openly ethnic" at school then me leaving half way through. I'd hated my hair all day, but his comment made me want to keep it out of spite.

I reached up to touch my ears and neck. It was sore along with my scalp. My housekeepers weren't experts at hair of my thickness. They ripped and prodded at it as if it were a nuisance. They tore my coils and ravaged my springs until it was unbowed and square.

The housekeeper Angies has brought in breakfast along with her supplies. Without warning she got me up at three am and began.

"I cleaned your uniform. Quite the task," she chided. Her silence reference to my dad's violence was not unnoticed.

"It was just a few drops, I don't see the issue,"

"It's a white uniform,"

"If it's such a task," I snapped, rising from vanity. Frustrated I already felt like crying and it was six in the morning. "Then maybe you shouldn't have called him," my throat was fighting me.

"I felt obligated–"

"Fuck—th...never mind. Just never mind Angie," I sighed, so exhausted so early.

I grab my uniform from her examining it, "I thought you were getting a bigger size?"

Angie was already on her way out my room after setting breakfast on my bed. "I mentioned that to your father as well. He went with my first idea of changing your diet," She pressed her hands against her skirt. "Oh and your father heard your met the four boys who's parents started Albon with him,"

"He said you did well in that regard,"

Fuck I'm so tired. Let me rest.

No.

She was expecting a tantrum from me. And she got one. I threw my tray at the door, "Fuck you! Fuck both of you!" Hysterical, just like she knew I'd be, because that's all I had left in me. No barriers, no control, that had all been taken from me a long time ago.

How quickly my patience turned to vexation, as if I didn't even fight it. That negative pool of emotion swallowed me and poured acid into my soul. I fought for the good memories, for the reasons to be calm, to stop putting myself in the position to be helpless in front of any of them. I fought to keep myself empathic even as every terrible thing I had predicted came true.

Every emotion my mind was too weak to cope with and couldn't express came out in that tantrum. I needed it as much as a whistling kettle needs to let out steam. Angie remained calm and waited for my storm to subside. All too early in the morning I was crying. How could the ache in my chest be so painful so early in the fucking morning.

"Emotional and irrational. Women tend to be these things but you..." She kneeled down, picking up the pieces I threw. Happy to do so. "maybe we should get you medicated,"

I got so still I stopped breathing. She wouldn't do that to me. Yes, but she would. All she had to do was mention it to dad and he'd bite.

For me, that was the worst betrayal, that lack of willingness to fight . And so, my heart still has only sweetness for the memories of who we were, but it is so very relieved to see the new life that waits ahead, just around the corner, I can sense it.

The pain of his hands would be nothing compared to not being me. What would they put me on? Something like my mom? She was dazed and hostile for years on those pills. Would they even tell me what I was ingesting? My dad didn't even let me go on birth control, this is bullshit.

"N-no, I'm okay I don't need it," she could hear my fear just like I did. She was content with taking that with her for the day. It fueled her.

She didn't even nod in response, she left me with my uniform that was too small. My eyes too wet and my heart beating too fast, all too early in the morning.

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