Page 85 of Alessia
She steps closer, holding out the scissors as if they might bite her. “Are you sure about this, Miss Davis?”
I take the scissors from her, their weight surprising me. I stare at them for a moment, then meet her eyes.
“Yes, I’m sure. I need to feel…different.”
Her lips press into a thin line, but she nods.
“How short are we going?”
I pull the ponytail over my shoulder, the ends brushing against my collarbone. Without hesitation, I slide my hand to just above the elastic band. “Start here.”
The nurse’s eyes widen. “That’s a lot of hair to lose.”
“Exactly,” I say, my voice steady. “It’s time for a change.”
She takes a breath, then carefully aligns the scissors with my hand. The first cut feels like a liberation, the sound of the blades slicing through my hair reverberating in the room. The weight of the ponytail drops into her hand, and she holds it up, as if it’s some kind of trophy.
“How does that feel?” she asks cautiously.
I reach up, running my fingers through the rough, uneven ends. “Like I shed dead weight.” I say, a small, unexpected smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. The nurse smiles back, her expression softening.
“It’s uneven. Do you want me to even it out?”
I nod, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Go for it.”
She pulls up a chair, her movements growing more confident as she snips and shapes what’s left of my hair. With each strand that falls to the floor, I feel a little fear, pain and shame slip away.
“There,” she says after a few minutes, stepping back to admire her work. “What do you think?”
I standand turn to the mirror on the wall, running my fingers through the short, jagged ends. My reflection looks back at me, unfamiliar and raw, but in a good way.
“It’s perfect,” I say quietly.
The nurse smiles. “Good. You needed this, didn’t you?”
“More than I realized,” I admit. I turn to her, gratitude swelling in my chest. “Thank you.”
She waves it off, but her smile lingers. “You’ll be okay, Miss Davis. One step at a time.”
As she leaves the room, I pick up the ponytail from the bedside table, holding it in my hands for a long moment. It’s not just hair, it’s a symbol of everything I’m letting go of. Without hesitation, I toss it into the trash.
I stand straighter, my reflection meeting my gaze with an intensity that feels new.
“One step at a time.” I tell my reflection.
I get back into bed and find medication on the table next to it with a cup of water. I toss the pills in my mouth and drink them down. Then I lie back and run my fingers through my short hair, getting myself familiar with the new length.
I wake up the next morning, rested, the best sleep I had since everything happened. I stretch and step out of bed. I’m going home today. That sparks a little joy in my chest and I decide to take a long shower. I step into the shower and remember not to close my eyes as the water crashes down on me. I breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, trying my hardest not to get another panic attack. I wash my body and my hair as quickly as possible, which is going a loteasier now that my hair is short and I rinse myself off. I dry myself off and put on a full face of make up to match my new hair. A bold red lipstick and a gold shimmering smokey eye. When I exit the bathroom in my robe, Alessia is there, packing up my stuff. I hadn’t expected to see her just yet. Well, better now than later to show her my new look. I lift my chin and casually walk over to my bed where she threw all the clothes to pack up.
“Excuse me what are you doing in here?” She bites at me before she looks up at whoever might be standing beside her. Shock covers her face and a gasp leaves her mouth. Wide-eyed she stares at me. I keep on rummaging through my clothes, until I found my fake leather pants and a dark red sleeveless bodysuit with a huge plunging neckline. She still doesn’t say a word and just stares at me.
“Easy there, tiger, if you ogle any harder, you might sprain your dignity.”
Alessia coughs, “Excuse me?! Sprain my dignity? I was just… appreciating the scenery!”
“Appreciating the scenery?” I snort, tugging the bodysuit over my head and smoothing it down. “You’re not exactly subtle about it, Alessia. Next time, try blinking at least once every thirty seconds. It’s less creepy.”
Her cheeks flush deep red, and she crosses her arms over her chest defensively.
