She May Not Belong to One of Us, but She Belongs to All of Us

Chapter 8

MELISSA'S POV

As I open my eyes I look up as I see the smooth ceiling I had been waking up to for almost 3 weeks now. The days are never short but they're never extremely long either. Honestly outside of simply going downstairs to eat, I rarely even leave the room. I can just imagine how this could send even the most homebody person crazy. Admittedly, I don't particularly love being cooped up in the room either but it's safer here. Last time I went with someone just on a ride and to show me this room I had royally fucked up. After that epic fail, I have resigned to keeping myself in this room and avoiding people. So here I was laying in bed yet again, with barely anything to do and no one to talk to. Honestly that part is pretty much the same as it always has been but in a house with so many people, it hurts a little bit more being so lonely. Honestly, I'm not even sure what I'm feeling.

There's of course fear and trepidation but there's also hope. In my eighteen years of life, this is the record for how long I've lasted without being smacked, kicked, beaten or raped. Sure this isn't the picture perfect life every girl dreams of but in comparison to what I've been through, I'll take it. Needing to do something, anything I rise to my feet and plop down on the toilet seat cover. Surprisingly there is a wide array of hair products and brushes. While each of the men have their own very distinct look, I am shocked to see how many products they have stored in what was pretty much an unused guest room. As shocking as this may sound, I don't think these boys entertained much. I line them all along the bathroom counter and begin to think of what I can do to my hair.

Growing up, I tried to teach myself how to do all of the cute girly braids. Of course without any products to do my hair and barely a brush to run through my hair, my hair was broken off and it was impossible to style. I turn the hot water on and step into the beautiful black and white tile walk in shower with a sterling silver waterfall shower head. Stripping down, I find myself excited all over again to step inside. The water courses all over my body and drenches my hair lovingly. Standing under this shower gives me such a warm feeling. Not just the temperature of the water but how it feels to be here, okay and relaxed. Possibly too relaxed but who's paying attention to that. I start the long process of washing my hair by applying generous amounts of shampoo.

Shampooing my hair has always been my favorite thing to do. The bubbles, the feel of the lather on my scalp and fingers is truly a heavenly process. Beginning to rinse out the suds and transition to conditioner, I allow the conditioner to sit in my hair while I bathe myself. The soap provided isn't considerably girly but it gets the job done and the manly smell to it is still wonderful. Once I have scrubbed myself clean, I begin to rinse out my hair. Of course this process is taxing on the arms with no real upper body strength but I push through. Finally arriving at the end of my shower, I turn the water off and step back out of the luxury shower. This is the real beginning of my hair hell, detangling. It's not so much that I have so much hair but having never taken care of it before and even now with so many products, nothing is really tailored to my hair type. Having it just become wet and tangled in the shower doesn't help any.

I plop down on my bed and begin the long and extraordinarily painful process of detangling, moisturizing and trying to braid. I remember in school the girls speaking of how to moisturize their hair and how they would use so much product on just one section. I guess it was time to put all that over-hearing to use and see if it helped in any way. As I section off my hair I recount on the things I probably would never have known how to do but have learned from the careful listening of my peer's conversations around me. Of course not everything a peer said could be taken for its merit but when one wanted to know what to do with the mop of hair on one's head the advice was more than warranted. Here now in this moment, I picture what my life could be like in these four walls. From the five men who rule this house like a kingdom to lack of knowledge of how to tread lightly with so many new variables introduced. It's soon that the possibilities are overwhelming and I begin to realize, I have no idea where I will even go from here.