29 - Harper
I know that was harsh of me, but Alessia needs to understand that she might not be able to fix me.
No amount of kind gestures or sweet words can fix me.
I’m broken and rotten and even though the physical injuries healed I can still feel every cut, bruise and tear.
My entire body hurts inside and out. My head feels like it might explode from all the dark thoughts inside it.
I press the call button for the nurse and a few minutes later a cheerful blond walks in.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
“Yeah, please, could you ask the doctor if I can get something that helps me sleep better?”
“Uhm… You’ve already been prescribed quite a bit of medication so I think you’re at the limit of what I can give you.”
“Please…” I plead.
She let’s out a sigh, “I’ll see what I can do.
” With that she leaves my room and I’m left alone again.
I get out of bed and walk over to the bathroom and undress.
I look at my body for a l ong time. My scars are slowly changing, healing, my piercings didn’t survive the brutal attack of those men.
There was I time that I liked those, wanted those to feel sexy and adventurous, now I’m glad that they’re gone.
My long blond hair hangs loose and I pull it up in a ponytail.
“Miss Davis?” I hear the nurse call from my room.
“I’m in the bathroom.” I reply.
“Oh, okay, anything I can help you with Miss?”
I look at my face, hair and body.
“Yeah…” I drawl and put on the robe that Alessia brought for me and I walk out. The nurse is standing next to my bed, looking a little dumbfounded at me.
“Could you do me a favor?”
“Uhm… That depends…” She stammers.
“Can you get me a pair of scissors and help me cut my hair.”
“Do you think you should make those kinds of decisions now, Miss Davis?”
“Does it matter? It’s hair, it will grow back you know.” I retort.
“I guess it does. Okay, fine.” She gives in and walks out of my room in search of scissors.
The nurse returns a few minutes later with a pair of scissors in hand. She hesitates at the doorway, her gaze flicking to the robe I’m wrapped in, then to my face. I motion for her to come in.
She steps closer, holding out the scissors as if they might bite her. “Are you sure about this, Miss Davis?”
I take t he 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 stand and 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 lot easier 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.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she snaps, “not all of us are accustomed to,” she gestures vaguely in my direction, her words catching in her throat. “whatever this is. What did you do to your hair?”
I freeze mid-motion, hands still on my zipper, and stare at her. “What?” I ask, blinking like she’s the one who’s suddenly gone off the rails.
Her eyes flicker to my hair, and it’s like a moment of clarity has hit her.
“Your hair,” she repeats, now sounding less judgmental and more… concerned. “You, cut it.”
I glance in the mirror. The short, choppy layers are barely long enough to graze my neck. My fingers twitch nervously at the strands.
“Yeah,” I reply with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “Got tired of the whole ‘long hair’ thing. Wasn’t doing anything for me anymore.”
Alessia raises an eyebrow. “Well, it’s… drastic. Definitely a change.”
“You could say that.” I mutter, turning back to the mirror. I still need to get used to it, and the uneven ends aren’t exactly what I’d imagined. But there’s something oddly freeing about it.
I catch her eye in the reflection. She’s still staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“You don’t like it, do you?” I ask her flatly.
She hesitates for a second, but then her lips curl into a reluctant smile. “It’s… bold. I’m just surprised. I never imagined you,” she cuts herself off, then quickly adds, “You always seemed like someone who would never change something so big.”
“Yeah well, things changed, I changed.” I retort. “And it’s just hair, it will grow back… Maybe.”
“Yeah, I guess so…” Alessia falls silent.
A notification on her phone draws her attention way from the conversation.
I finish up packing my clothes and grab the toiletries from the bathroom.
Alessia furiously types away on her phone, completely lost in her own world.
When everything is packed, I stand a little straighter and look at her.
“Can we go?”
No response.
I clear my throat “Alessia! I would like to go now.” That snaps her out of her focus and she looks back at me, worry etching her face. Whatever she just got notified on, it’s not good.
“Sorry, what?” She replies.
“I said, I would like to go now!”
“Ah, yes, of course! Alex is waiting downstairs for us.”
“Where’s Elio, I thought he drove you everywhere?”
“Yeah, usually he is, but he has more pressing matters to attend to right now.”
“Like what?” I raise my brow defiantly. I’m not in the mood to be brushed off today.
Alessia sighs and rubs her forehead with her middle finger and thumb. It’s clear there’s something going on that she won’t or can’t tell me.
“I’ll tell you when we get home, okay? I promise! This is not something I want to discuss here.”
And with that she strides out of my room, leaving me a little stunned. I blink a few times before I follow her. We ride the elevator down in silence, as well as the drive home. The tension of unspoken words hanging between us.