I hear the soft moaning of the storm outside. There is rain all over the patio and the thunder and lightning is booming like the god Zeus had never been angrier. I cuddle under my wool blanket and listen to the faint noises under my feather pillow. My room is as cold as a freezer. Even colder. Sadly, I cannot make it any warmer. My A/C is broken and is gushing cold air, the wind is howling like the swirling storm outside. I know by morning, I would see glistening ice all over the place. It was so cold my toes and fingers were numb, my face stung and I struggled to make any part of my body warm. I could have sworn I felt Jack Frost’s minty, icy breath blowing down under my blanket.
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Instead of seeing myself; I see a walking gorilla! I look at myself from head to toe. What happened? I recall everything that I had digested. I don’t think I ate anything suspicious or anything that said “BEWARE, you will turn into a walking, talking gorilla!”. What should I do?!
I look at how pointless my dog ponytail; I look just like my dog but hairier and taller.
I feel like screaming, but I can’t let these emotions show. I wish my mum were here so that she could help me get rid of all this hair; instead she’s thousands of miles away attending a wedding in India. I have a personal conflict, whether I should approach my dad with this situation. It’s better if I tell him. But, now I have something more important to do! I get my shaving kit and start shaving right away, I don’t care if I get to school late. I am not going like this!
I enter my shower and bathe myself with a mixture of soap and shampoo. The blade has no effect on my hair. My hair feels heavier in the water, but the shaving is helping. I sigh in relief, as my body is clean-shaven as usual. Now the only hair left on my body is on my head. My eyebrows are slightly smaller and thinner; my eyelashes are thicker, like the effect of wearing false eyelashes. I quickly shower and get dressed. I reach midway down the stairs:
“Dad! I need to tell you something!”, I call worriedly.
‘Your late, again!”, my dad retorted.
“I’m sorry.” I apologize. “Can you please come upstairs? I need to show you something.”
I hear a faint sigh followed by footsteps. He is coming upstairs. I show him the hair; I study his face to see his reactions. He was surprised, just like I expected. I go downstairs to have breakfast. I really don’t want to talk about this.
The middle school building is empty; there are no students to be seen. I glance at my watch; 9:24 am. Of course, what did I expect? 7:25?! I run towards the Middle School Office. It’s better to get a tardy slip and then enter class for two reasons:
1. You will look like you were meant to be late, and like you have a letter explaining everything.
2. If you don’t get a tardy slip before class, the time you come back to get one; you will be a few more minutes later.
Ms. Anne was in her office.
“Hey, Ms. Anne”, I said
“Here comes the weasel, are you coming to school now?”, she inquired.
“Yes, can I please have a tardy slip?”, I asked.
She took out a big book, and tore about a yellow piece of paper. She wrote my name and the time.
“Here you go. You look different today… New Haircut?” she handed it to me. I gave her one of my famous confused looks.
I politely took it and went to my lockers. Now I just have to figure out what class I have. I look at the upper-right side of my locker. Great, I have French. BORING!
We always need a laptop in French, and since my parents don’t let me bring my own laptop. I have to borrow one from the library.
I jog towards the library. I don’t have my purse with me, therefore no I.D card either. I check out no....