Civilized

Ch. 3

The two soldiers led me out of the line and onto another wagon, though this one was much nicer but not enough to save my sore tailbone. I winced in pain as I sat across from the strange soldier. He was sat upon a red cushion making me feel very indifferent about him. He made eye contact with me the whole ride, face calm and reserved as I glanced all around trying my best not to look at him.
When the wagon stopped, they took me out, gentler at least, to a house in a large clearing. It wasn't all that fancy, just homely, but better than what I'd ever experienced.
"Miss," someone spoke up making me jump. I turned my head to see the soldier, looking more foreign than ever.
"Do you speak English?" He asked. I nodded shakily. He smiled and offered a hand.
"That's good to know. Would you please come inside. We're not yet done with your changes. I'm afraid I couldn't help your other friends, but my comrades are trying their best to get as many out as possible," he said helping me inside. I couldn't fully understand what he meant by it, but didn't care as long there wasn't anything bad happening.
"What do you mean changes?" I asked finally. He continued walking but turned his head to smile at me. He didn't answer, but simply placed me in a room where the familiar chemical smell greeted me, though not as strong and pungent. He left as soon as I stepped foot inside, closing the door after him.
"Well, well. What do we have here?" A lady far larger than I in both height and width instantly approached me and looked me up and down. She had on western clothing, a long emerald green dress with a black waist bow. Her hair was done up in a very high bun that, to me, was very sleek and showed no signs of coming apart. She motioned me to sit down on a chair facing a mirror without any excessive force like that I'd been faced with so far. I agreed since she was so polite and sat down. A light around the mirror was flicked on blinding me for a second.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she gasped standing behind me. She placed her hands on my hair tousling some places and holding others up to inspect. I had no idea what was going and sat frozen with my hands held tightly on my lap.
"We need you to wash up," she exclaimed suddenly. She rushed me out of the chair and into a room adjacent to the one we were in.
"Here. Bathtub, body scrub, face scrub, shampoo, conditioner, and body soap. Clean yourself well, ok? Ok," with that, she left me in the pinkish room that I took as where they bathed. I looked at the bathtub that seemed so different than the wooden and tin ones I'd used. And I never used soap from a bottle like the ones before me. Following her instructions, and the ones on the bottles, I finished bathing and was just drying my hair when she suddenly stormed in.
"Oh, you're done? Leave yourself as is, I'll work with it," she said gently taking the towel out of my hands. I held the towel around my body tighter as I walked out. I somehow felt very embarrassed just wearing a towel no matter how soft it was. But she didn't seem to mind at all as she gathered things from an apron she now wore.
"U-um," I muttered standing in the middle of the room. She turned with an eyebrow raised and realized she hadn't told me what to do now.
"Oh, goodness. Just sit down, fall asleep, watch me work, I don't know, just stay perfectly still," she said nodding furiously at the chair. I nodded and pursed my lips as I sat down. I really wished now that I had more than a towel on me.
I chose to watch her work as she took my uneven hair and cut it more in places to make a very short cut that I'd never imagined to have in my life. Tears threatened to hit my eyes again, but I wouldn't allow it. Then, she took my hair and began painting it just as the others did. Though she was much more tedious and thorough.
"What are you doing?" I asked in a small voice. She looked up whilst painting and answered me.
"Dyeing your hair. We have to get rid of that jet black hair of yours and create a more civilized image for you. Although those Chinese soldiers did a horrible job on you," she said. Chinese? Those soldiers were Chinese? I then realized she'd called my jet black hair, which was praised by many in the village, something to be rid of. I looked down at my hands and gripped the hem of the towel.
"Do you know why they did this?" I asked, "Why they did this to my village? They killed our chief and murdered my mother. If you know anything, please tell me," I weeped without tears. She stopped for a second eyeing me in the mirror pitifully.
"I'm sorry, dear. I don't know why," she said. I looked her in the eye, and smiled at least thankful she was the only one who'd been nice to me so far.
The painting continued afterwards with no more words, and soon she gave me a break to let it dry, and then came back washing my hair all over again, then drying it. She rubbed my head so hard I thought my hair would fall out. But five minutes later, she was done and my hair hung naturally straight in a shade between dirty blonde and brown. I had no words and stared at the person that didn't seem like me.