Patchwork

Chapter 3

Next memory.

We ended middle school quickly. On the last day of middle school, our teacher gave out presents to everyone. Of equal cost, she told us. She gave me a collection of classic books - Alice in Wonderland, What Katy Did, Enid Blyton - so on. My face beamed. She laughed.

She gave Iro a professional set of drawing pencils. Iro went quiet, which to anyone else would seem rude, but most of us knew her enough by now to know that she goes quiet when she's mad or really happy. Judging by the look in her eye, it looks to be the latter.

She hugged the teacher. We all did to be fair. But she did it first.

Then the Summer holidays came. Me and her went around the park and the streets and even to a festival or so together. The Solaris Festival, and The Silver Fox Festival. They were like reliving our earlier lives. Carefree. Happy.

If I had known that would be one of the last times I would see her happy, I would've taken more photos. But as it was, the few I took were good enough to go on the cork board. One of my favourites was a picture of her walking slowly through knee-high grass, a home-made flower crown on her dark hair. She was looking behind herself, at the camera, and laughing happily.

She had then stolen the camera and taken a picture of me, then demanded I put it on the cork board too. I agreed only to please her - but looking at the two pictures together made us look like we should be together.

Her - with the dark yet bright hair, that flew colour at every movement. Her, with the bright eyes full of imagination and creativity. Her, with the slender, natural arms. Her, with the carefree attitude. Her, with the colourful clothes.

Then me. Me, with the boring brown hair. Me, with the faded out eyes. Me, with the pale skin. Me with the deer-in-the-headlights expression. Me with the dimmed clothes.

After looking at them together, even Iro agreed that I wasn't... Eye-catching enough. She took me to the city the next day, claiming it was her treat. I still emptied my savings just in case.

We started at the clothes shops. She loaded me up with crazy, patchworked coats, bold shirts, bright jeans and funny and quirky accessories. We hit charity shops and second-hand stores mostly, and only went for main shops if we - she - saw something cheap, but good.

Then came my body. She spent a few moments examining me carefully, then nodded.

"It's your hair." She told me. "It's not... Bright enough. Come on."

I followed her into a barber shop. She sat me down, took the stylist to one side and whispered to him. He nodded and came back to me, then turned the mirror away. I bit my tongue, but didn't protest.

He started with cutting my hair. It was long - very long. Down to my mid-back long. He trimmed it down so it bounced just past my shoulders. Then he bought out a pot of blue stuff.

"Hair bleach." He told me. He didn't talk much. I shivered as he applied it in big glops, then placed a layer of Clingfilm over my hair. Iro chose that moment to come back in and laugh at me. But it was a friendly laugh. I found myself laughing with her.

The Clingfilm came off. I was suddenly blond. But it wasn't what she wanted. The stylist washed the blue out of my hair, then opened three tubs of hair dye.

I tried not to focus on him as he dyed my hair. Instead I watched Iro. She had that look in her eye - that glazed out, daydreaming look that she gets when she's in her world. She bought her notebook out, turned to a blank page and doodled, glancing at me every now and then, smiling and going back to the page.

I could tell she was drawing me. Was I still the fox-like creature? Or had I changed? Was being around her changing me?

I hoped so. I hoped one day I could be as colourful as she is.

Before I knew it, the stylist was done, applying another layer of Clingfilm. I sighed, and leaned back in the chair. Iro looked up at me, dug around in her bag and handed me a book. I smiled at her gratefully and dug into the novel.

Then, suddenly, the stylist was pulling the Clingfilm off again. Iro had put her notebook away, and was gently taking the book away from me, reaching behind me and spinning the mirror round, then rotating the chair.

My hair - once a dull brown - now shone like a night sky. It was blue and purple with hints of silver. I stared, shocked, while Iro spoke with the stylist. The girl in the mirror was much more bright then me. More bold.

More colourful.

I rose from the chair, hardly noticing my aching legs. Then I turned and hugged the stylist.

He laughed and hugged me back. I then turned to Iro and hugged her tightly too. As we were walking back home, she revealed my camera in her bag. We walked through the park, and she took a photo of me from the side, next to the bushes and flowers. We went home, plugged the camera in and printed the picture off, then placed it next to her photo.

That time I looked like I belonged next to her. She nodded at the baggy sweater I was wearing. "It suits you." She told me.

"Let me see the notebook." I begged her. She laughed, flicking the bird charm I had got at the festival so many years ago. She bought it out and handed it over.

The drawings - sleek, careful and beautiful - progressed from childish to professional surprisingly quickly. The newest one wasn't complete yet, but I could see where it was going. The same foxy look, the same timid look, but this time it had changed from the eerie silver to a dark blue and purple.

I was the night sky.

And she was the day time.

Aww, look at all the metaphors, and symbolisms.

So cute.

Hats off to you if you can guess what's to come. I bet you can't. The question for today is have you dyed your hair? If so, what colour? And have you ever been to festivals? I have. They're so fun. You just need to get in the swing of things, like Iro.

Until next time,

~Glitch