You Can't Break Her

Chapter twelve: part eight | September

September 2002
Bayhollow, Ontario

Grace thought it was perfect for me to join something that involved other people and keeping a routine. The job aspect had not been lost on any of us and it was brought up often because I was excited for the possibility of making money.

I was signed up and it began a week after the school year started. We were shown how to wash our faces in the most effective way and what makeups and brushes and sponges worked best for each product. It was intimidating material for a Tom boy with no prior experience with makeup, aside from sneaking into my sister's room and putting on purple mascara and basically looking like a clown when I was finished.

We were shown how to walk with a book on our head and there were tape markers on the floor of the same hall where dances were held. The tape was placed for us to mimic with our feet, a proper model held a certain position as she started the walk and continued with her shoulders back and your head held just high enough to keep the book steady.

When I went to school I told the class of my adventures in modelling and showed the interested girls in the class how to walk with a book on their heads.

My demonstration was cut short by a young man named Evan Roy, he placed a foot on each side of the isle, boosting himself up on the bottom of the desk legs. "No stupid models allowed through here." He sneered at me and crossed his arms, though he would regret not closing his legs.

I swung my leg back and full force booted him between the legs. His face turned maroon and his legs retracted causing him to fall over on the floor. He wept on the floor and held himself while I sat at a desk and went over how badly I had over reacted. "You shouldn't have got in my way," was all I could say to Evan as he sobbed on the floor next to me.

The class watched the whole thing and quieted down as soon as my leg met his body. One person ran to get a teacher and everyone else gawked, two ran to him, his close friends that were worried. They avoided my eyes and I tried to do the same.

I couldn't stop questioning what made me do that? What had I done? Why was violence the tool I used to solve my problems?

Evan was rushed to the hospital and I sent home for the day. I completed two days of in school suspension and lost privileges at home such as watching television or going out.

My parents sat me down and explained what I could have done and I nodded along because the whole time I was thinking, if he would have stayed out of my way, we wouldn't be in this mess.

I continued modelling after my grounding, until a mannequin job came up.

"You'll be positioned in a store front and expected to stay still for fifteen minutes to a half hour. There's no movement of any kind on this job." Mona, our modelling teacher, eyed each of the seven girls in the room including myself and Brandy, a long lost cousin of mine.

I raised my hand when Mona took a moment to take a drink of water form her bottle on the table next to her. She pointed to me. "What about blinking? If you can't move, how do you blink?"

Mona rolled her eyes. "Of course you can blink, Ama."

The thought of sitting still for a long period of time made my skin crawl, I was trapped in a coffin with millions of cockroaches and doing this supposed job would set me off like nothing ever had. I knew myself too well and I was well aware my modelling career was over.