bitter basil, (hozier)

july 31st, 1969 - morning

diary of judy carver (DO NOT READ)
july 31, 1969
dear diary,
holy shit. i'm gonna do it.
it's been two whole years in the making. i can't tell you how many hours i've spent bussing tables at pa's diner (i can - 1,872. yes i did the math. i've made just over 11 grand! just by working at pa's! can you believe it?!
i called mikey this morning - he's still on his way home from school. holy shit, if you could hear how excited he was when i told him i could buy his van... that piece of shit has been through the worst, and he's selling it to me for only $200! it may be a piece of shit, but if it'll get me out of bristol, i don't care.
there's only one problem. and it's kinda big.
i haven't told my parents.
it's not like they'd be cool with it! what, you think i can just waltz into the kitchen like "hey ma, hey pa! just letting you know, i'm buying a used van from my brother and driving up the country to a music festival where i won't know anyone! love you!" they'd have my ass beat into next tuesday.
   i don't quite know how i'm gonna do it. i think once i get the van off of mikey, i'll write a letter to ma and pa, tell them where i'm going, and then just... go.
i'll figure it out. life was never meant to be slapped on a calendar ass over tea kettle.
-j.c.

judy slammed her journal shut, the pages blowing a forgiving gust of wind into her sweaty face. out of all the seasons, summer and winter were the most brutal. she stood up from her desk, going to her bathroom to observe her straightened hair. she never liked it when she straightened her hair out. it felt like a part of her was gone - the one part that she loved so dearly. her curls.

when they were free, judy's curls were beautiful. they'd hang off her shoulders and bounce around with every step she took. her curls made her feel big. powerful.

and without them, she was just a hollow version of herself. not judy! just... judy.

she looked in the mirror, taking a deep breath. "now or never, judes."

"judy, come downstairs, mikey's home!"

"in a minute, ma! i'm getting cleaned up!" judy shouted. without a moment's hesitation, she undressed, leaving her neat sunday clothes in the hamper where they would never see the light of day again. she stepped into the shower, purposefully forgetting her shower cap. she was nearly shaking with excitement as she could feel the heat damage washing away with the shampoo she rubbed into her scalp. she worked the product through her dark brown strands, her hair silently thanking her for letting it breathe. i'm never straightening my hair again, she told herself.

not even twenty minutes later, judy bounded down the stairs, her ebony curls following her. "mikey!" she exclaimed, completely disregarding her mother's stern looks as she brought her older brother in for a hug. mikey reciprocated without thought, happy to see his little sister. "you brought the van with you?" she asked lowly, still holding on to him.

"yup," mikey matched her soft voice. "you got the money?"

"donezo."

"judy, when are you gonna stop hugging your brother and tell me why the hell your hair ain't straighter than my pen?" judy's mom demanded.

judy rolled her eyes and unraveled herself from mikey. "it's hot out, my hair was bound to get frizzy anyways. might as well embrace it," she said blankly.

"judy," her father began sternly.

she groaned. "i know what y'all are gonna say. judy, you gotta keep the black away. judy, you know what they call negroes who ain't got they hair tamed," she mocked. "well i'll tell you this much: i. don't. care." she didn't have time to get the looks on her parents' faces before she ended her speech with a humph and stormed back up the stairs.