Unique Beauty

Unique Beauty. Chapter 6

So heeey,

I'm sorry for not uploading sooner, and I'm also sorry for it being so short! It's really just a filler, it'll get better from here on. Promise!

- S x 

Chapter 6

Today was the day.

Today was the day my world would be turned upside down. Today was the day I started a fresh, bright new world.

Today was the day everything changed.

I was sitting in the hairdressers, nylon robe covering my clothes and head popped out of the top. My insides bubbled with anticipation, churning with excitement.

Today’s the day, I told myself.

I was in desperate need of a change of perspective. My esteem had reached an all-time low. My life was in desperate need of some sunshine. I was constantly putting myself down, constantly feeling upset about my image and constantly hiding my appearance. It was an ongoing battle with myself, with my reflection. An endless war with against dark thoughts. Always put downs, always not feeling good enough.

There was a rule: no more put-downs, no more hiding, no more comparing myself to others, no more acting shy, no more not feeling good enough, no more self-pity. Negativity was out, and positivity was in.

Although I was set on the decision, it was still a mystery as to when I decided to start changing. Maybe I started the change when Jasmine signed me up for Christmas Queen, Maybe it was that night I cried myself until I couldn’t cry anymore.

Amelia was beside me, scissors in hand and eyebrow raised in scepticism.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” My sister asked, making sure before the plan was put into action.

I smiled wryly. “Are you hesitating?”

She ran a swift hand through my hair with a wistful sigh. “It’s just so pretty.”

With a shrug she sighed again and let her hand fall to her side. “What brought this on so suddenly?” She asked.

There was only one answer for that question.

“Just wanted a change,” I said nonchalantly.

-------------------------------

“What do you mean I can’t withdraw?”

It was the early morning, but even so, the air leaking into the teacher’s lounge was warm. My hiss was loud, so that Mrs Free glanced around warily, scared that I might have awoken anything, despite the fact that we were alone. She looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry, but if you didn’t want to participate, you shouldn’t have signed up for it . . . . It’s too late now, the nametags are already being made, preparations have already begun,” she crossed her legs and sighed. “You should probably start campaigning, everyone else started last week . . . Why exactly do you want to withdraw, anyway?”

“Because it’s stupid,” I said. “We all know that Heather Donovan is going to take the crown. The only time she hasn’t was when Molly Marshall was here.”

“Apparently not this time, according to a certain someone last week.”

I knew she was referring to my speech last week directed at Heather, my speech in the cafeteria. The question was, how did she know?

Mrs Free noticed the confusion in my gaze. “Nothing much gets passed me, kiddo.”

I shook my head, clearing the image of it. “That was a mistake, a big mistake. I’ve made a powerful enemy.”

Mrs Free leant back in her chair. Although she was our year advisor, I still couldn’t bring myself to trust her completely, not when she had just stated that nothing much passed her. “Maybe Heather won’t take any notice of it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I muttered, not really agreeing. I went to the door and prepared to take my leave, disappointed that I couldn’t withdraw and disappointed that we had gotten onto the topic of Heather and I.

“Oh, and Sydney?” Mrs Free called after me. “Nice hair.”

I ran a hair through my hair, stopping short of the door to turn back to her. “Uhh, thanks,” I said bitterly, walking out and into the hallway.

It had been at least a week since the encounter in the canteen, signing up for Christmas Queen. Already, preparations were being made for their campaigns. Banners were being printed, posters were being created. As the temperature rose for the bloom of summertime, so did all the candidates' competitive sides. I had gone to Mrs Free this morning in hope to get rid of the problem once and for all, but it had just made me feel worst. I knew the bell for first period would be going soon, so I veered left in sight for the quadrangle, but didn’t get to far when a voice sang out behind me.

“Your hair!”

I whirled around.

Jasmine was running towards me, skipping almost. When she reached me, her fingers were in my hair, her face alight with wonder. She gasped, again and again. Here in Sydney, change wasn’t regular. Even a haircut was big gossip, including mine.

“It’s short! And blonde! And oh my gosh, why didn’t you tell me?” She gushed, smiling broadly.

I shrugged. “It was kind of a snap decision. And kind of not a big deal either.”

“What? Not a big deal? Are you kidding me? I didn’t even recognise you! You look like a totally different girl! Is this because of Christmas Queen? Or, is there something you’re not telling me? Is there a guy? Is there an event coming up? You should have told me!’

I waved off her babbles with one hand and continued on my way down the hallway. Jasmine trailed along beside me, her steps quick to keep up with mine. She sighed after a moment, realising that the discussion on my hair was off limits. We were silent as she groped for a new topic.

“So, I was thinking, why don’t we campaign together for Queen? Like a sister act, kind of thing?”

The talk of Christmas Queen brought me back to the disappointment of this morning, when I was turned away at the door. It also brought me back to heather, her death-like stare, her powerful attitude. I shivered involuntarily and gave Jasmine a quick nod.

“Sure, sounds great.” I answered.

“You need to get into it more, really. If you want to win, you need to at least act happy all the time.”

“And what if I don’t want to win?”

“Well then that’s social suicide. Who signs up for Queen and then doesn’t want it? Nobody, Trust me, Sid, you’d be throwing yourself into a pit of flames if you don’t participate.”

I took her words into consideration, admiring at how smart my bestfriend was. But I didn’t have long to thin about it, because suddenly I was faced with a much greater problem.

At the end of the corridor, a figure stood with her hands by her side and hair over her shoulders. Sharp, penetrating eyes met mine with a small sneer.

At the end of the hallway, Heather Donovan waited, her glare for me and me alone.