Cold, Hungry, and Torn (Feat. Johnny Depp)

Chapter 5: Description of the New Dawn

Chapter Five: Description of the New Dawn 

 Tears swelled in my eyes as he told me this, but I fought them back. I don’t cry. I don’t allow myself to. It shows weakness. And I can’t afford to be weak. 

 Johnny smiled, and took my hand, pulling me along behind him, through his house, pointing to various rooms. “Kitchen, Dining room, bathroom, bedroom, and other bedroom.” he said, giving me the quickest tour in history. He then turned back around to look at me. “Do you want to take a quick shower before I show you to your room? Because if so, you have to use my shower. There’s not a bathroom in the guest room...” he asked. 

 I hadn’t taken a literal shower, in three years. I’d taken whore baths, and ‘showered’ in the rain, but I hadn’t taken a real shower. I reeked and I knew it. 

 “Um... Okay I guess...” i responded quietly, still feeling bad for making him go through so much trouble for me. Johnny smiled and took my hand again, pulling me along to his room, and leading me through another door into his master bathroom. It was amazing. Even the restaurants and store bathrooms I’d been in weren’t quite this nice. This smelled like pure cologne and cheap shampoo. 

 “I’ll leave you alone here and see if I have any clothes you can stay in for the night. I’ll just drop the clothes back in here while you’re in the shower, but don’t worry, it has a curtain, so I won’t see anything I shouldn’t” he laughed. I smiled and nodded before he turned, left, and shut the door. 

 I was alone. In a real house. A real bathroom. I was about to take my first shower since I was seventeen. 

 I began to undress, taking off my loose black tank top first, then my old filthy sports bra, and finally, my disgusting jeans. I left it all on the floor, not thinking anything of it, and then turned to look in the mirror. The mirror I hadn’t looked in for years. I’d looked at my reflection in windows, but even when I went into public bathrooms, I avoided the mirrors at all costs. 

 Scars. To many to count. Starting from my wrists, then connecting to my collar bones, to my stomach, over my hips, and finally down to my knees. I then took my focus off my scars, and focused on my actual features. My boobs were mediocre sized, flat chested one second, but I could have cleavage if I wanted. I hate it. My torso and legs to long compared to my arms, and my ribs poking out from my chest. I turned around to see the back of me. Every inch of my body was covered in some sort of filth and dirt, but especially my back. My ribs poked out from my back as well, and you could see every vertebrae of my spine. I began to look at my face. My ears were to small, eyes to wide-eyed, lips to slender and mouth to small, nose was just about right, and then there was my hair. A rats nest reaching just under my breasts, and bangs slanting down the side of my face. Half my hair was in accidental dreads, and the other literal half was in corn-rows that I hadn’t taken out for six months. The blonde in my hair glowed, but there were pieces or auburn streaking down my roots. I was done with this. I couldn’t look at myself another second. It was frightening. I hated the way I look. 

 Finally, I stepped inside the shower and closed the curtain. Hesitantly, I reached to turn the water on. I remembered that I hated hot showers, so I spun the handle just enough so that it was still refreshingly cold. The perfectly cold water hit me harder than I expected, and I felt like my skin was going to burst. It was one of the best feelings I’d ever felt. 

 I ran my hand through my hair, attempting to undo the cornrows and and loosen the dreads. Finally, with a lot of effort and slightly to much old-spice shampoo and conditioner, my hair was perfectly straight underneath the cold water. For the first time in forever my hair actual felt like hair. Like celebrity hair. 

 I finished cleaning myself off, and used a man-razor to shave my legs, and finally stepped out of the shower, feeling like a new person. I hadn’t felt this clean in years. I spotted the clothes that Johnny had left on the counter for me without me realizing it, grabbed a towel, and walked over to them. 

 These, were defiantly not girl clothes. But for the record, I had been wearing a guy’s jacket and boy jeans for years now. But this was different. These were the kind of guy clothes that girlfriend’s steal from their boyfriends to look cute. I held up a long button-down that was obviously his, and threw it on, and then held up a pair of sweatpants he had left me. These were defiantly never going to fit me. He obviously didn’t realize how small I was when I was wearing my old clothes. 

 I stuck my head out the bathroom door and spotted Johnny sitting on his bed reading a book. Considering I was only in a guy’s button down that reached past my ass, I decided not to step all the way out. “Dude, do you mind if I cut up your sweatpants a bit so they actually fit me?” I asked to Johnny, startling him. He shrugged, “go for it.” he told me. 

 I shut the door once more and grabbed the sweatpants. I grabbed a knife out of my old jeans, and began cutting the sweatpants into extremely short shorts. When they were finally a suitable length, I threw them on and tied the drawstring as tight as it could possibly go. I glanced in the mirror, and realized how different I looked. My hair looked like almost healthy hair, and I was wearing cute girlfriend clothes. My face even looked new and fresh. 

 Looking in the mirror, I realized what I didn’t like. My hair. It looked almost healthy, but not healthy. It needed to be cut, or trimmed, or fixed up somehow. Quickly and without hesitation, I pulled it back into a ponytail using a rubber band, grabbed the knife I used to cut the sweatpants, and began attempting to chop it. Going full Mulan-style, I cut it to the perfect boyish length, just underneath the ears. It fell down and away from the old ponytail, and I looked like a whole new person. Although, since I was so small, I could totally pull it off. I now had a whole new look. I looked like someone who could successfully go into that five star restaurant. 

 Stepping out of them bathroom, leaving it a mess, Johnny looked up from his book and gawked at me. “Um... New hair?” He asked. I smiled and nodded. Johnny looked at me head to toe, hardly even looking at the scars going down to my knees, revealed by the extremely short new shorts, and smiled. 

 “You look absolutely adorable.” he told me. I blushed, and this time, I didn’t have a rats nest to hide it with.