I jumped up out of my bed. Today was going to be awesome. We were finally given the chance to make school fun, and I didn't know about anyone else, but I was going to take good advantage of that opportunity.
In the bathroom, I took out all of the things I had bought at Walmart the previous day. I picked up the bottle of hair glue then stopped. How much of this were you supposed to put in anyway? I flipped it around to read the directions:
"Guaranteed to last until your next shower. Make sure your hair is clean and slightly damp."
Too boring. I ended up squirting out a whole handful. That should work. I lifted up one strand of hair and put it all in there. While still holding it up, I blew it dryed and used some of my mom's hair spray on it. It stayed up excelently. I did this about 7 more times and then took out the color hair spray and made them all our school colors.
The orange and black bandana's, I tyed around my wrists, and I finshed dressing in an orange school shirt and black pants. I even put on a spike bracelet and some black eyeliner tears.
The whole day at school, stares followed me. This would make some people uncomfortable, but honestly, I loved the attention. I think it was great that for once, I could be colorful and different. I always thought of my personality like that, and being able to express it was awesome.
My happiness faltered when I got home. How could I possibly forget about what my parents would think? They would freak. Like everyone else in this town, they were used to people all being the same.
My mom carried on about what people were going to say, how embarrased I'd be, and how much I would regret it later. I knew I wouldn't be embarrased. Everything she was saying really applied to her and she just didn't want to say it. I could tell she was still trying to keep me as the innocent child I was back when I was so much younger. Back when I let my life be led by every command that was given to me, no matter how important, and when I had perfect grades. She wanted me to be someone that I'm not, and the only reason I'm still here is because she thinks there is still hope for me.
After being forced to wash everything out of my hair, I retreated to my room. It wasn't a punishment. It was done by my own free will. I didn't want to face my parents again. I didn't know how to tell them good bye.
