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I was getting ready for my date with Billy. We had been friends since grade school, I was a bit nervous and anxious. He had been really putting off us getting together. He must have had really cold feet or something. He started by wanting it to happen and then backed off for a while. But I could not figure why. Billy was being so weird recently. I put on a cute green top with a necklace that had a cute metal heart charm at the end of it. My pants were basic blue jeans but it was going to be a causal date tonight. I got ready an hour early and was kinda sweating the whole time. I had to go back to the bathroom every 20 minutes to freshen myself back up. When the time came, I waited, 15 minutes went by I called his phone no answer. He must be driving I thought. Another 30 minutes went by and I called again. Still no answer. After an hour I started dialing the number over and over. Then a girl picked up, hello she said in a perky voice. Then I heard Billy, don’t answer that, it is that pathetic dumb b*tch that can’t let me go. I actually made her think we had a date tonight isn’t that funny? The girl giggled over the phone. Then hung it up.
I don’t know exactly what I felt. It was a mixture of anger and strong emotional pain. But I could not figure which was worse or stronger. But I did know that the vase on the table was close enough to my hand. I grabbed it and threw it against the wall and enjoyed watching it shatter into tons of little pieces. I felt tears run down my cheeks. I took a plate from the kitchen cabinet and broke it in the sink, then I did it again. I ran to my room after and slammed the door loud and hard. I started pulling my hair out and I ran into my bed and screamed into my pillow as loud as I could. I pounded on the bed with all my strength and after crying my eyes out I went to sleep.
I woke up and felt like I had just gotten over a hangover. I sat on the edge of my bed and wondered where my life was and what I was going to do next. I went on Facebook and looked at pictures and posts from friends. And there was one about a singer named Brian. He was a punk rocker and a rebel that did not take crap from nobody. I had heard his music before but now it fully connected with me in the moment. I took the keys to my dads’ car without him seeing. I went to the store and I stole black hair color, black nail polish, black eyeliner and black lipstick. I was a rebel now and I was going to act like one.
When people looked at me now, even now, they were scared when they looked into my eyes. I was tainted and emotionally bruised. But I was not going to deal with jerks like Billy anymore! I went home and a pulled a pair of huge scissors from the drawer in kitchen. I went to the bathroom and cut my hair down to just before my neck. I threw all of the hair in a small trash can next to me. I looked into the mirror with eyes of anger and passion. I put black hair color in my hair and while it was starting to set I started to put black eyeliner on as thick as I could. I started coloring my hands with black nail polish. Then midway I realized that I still had contacts in my eyes. I did that for boys. I rushed to my room and quickly recklessly pulled my contacts and threw on my black framed glasses that I had been ashamed of before.
I was finally ready to pull off the top helping my hair to set. My hair was now black and beautiful. The rest of the night I went on YouTube and watched Brian’s videos. They spoke to me and they helped to channel the anger and pain that I felt. I went to bed and woke up. My dad in the other room started yelling about the broken vase and plates. I grabbed my bookbag and threw on my black lipstick. I did not hear him and he could not see me as I left the house. I grabbed a 20 off the counter and skipped getting on the bus to school. I went to the thrift store within a reasonable walking distance from my house. I grabbed a long sleeve black shirt and found old shirt with Brian on it. I pulled off that stupid green top and told them to keep it and gave them the money for the clothes.
I walked to school and was there right after lunch. I did not care about my classes and anyone that smiled at me I gave them the finger. I felt good, I felt safe, I had protected myself from people. I was my own person now. And the thought crossed my mind if Brian had a fan club or not.
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