Dude...Thats Not a Guy

2. Blinding some bitches with my paper white abs

Soraya’s POV

“Shitting f*ck.” I swore to myself.

“What was that?” I heard from Daniella. The one who was taking care of me here.

“Shivers.” I said sweetly, adding a smile onto the end of it.

“It didn’t sound like ‘shivers’.” Daniella told me, her blonde hair in a tight hairdo and her brown eyes sparkling like they always do. Always so happy looking, I have no idea how she does it.

“Maybe you’re just a little deaf.” I kept my sweet tone on. “Um, I need to re-dye my hair, I’m getting regrowth again.” I stated, pointing to the bright red hair coming from my scalp. “It clashes with the purple.” I added, seeing the faded pastel purple hair with also faded pastel blue tips.

“Okay, but just this once, since you have an interview today-”

“I have an interview! I wonder how much these ones will absolutely hate me. I wonder if it’ll be the same amount or more than the last ones?” I questioned sarcastically.

“Do you know how hard it is to get an interview for you? You know that after you become a teenager it becomes harder, a lot harder, to get you out of here. Especially since-”

“I’m seventeen, I get the point.” I cut her off. “They all think I’m going to be a prissy girl, who likes wearing dresses and loves pink in all shades and high heels and fluffy kittens. I'm not like that.” I reminded her.

“You know that if we can’t get you out of here soon, the only other option you have is to go off to the Defence Force.” She stated. God damn it, She had to bring that little fact up, didn’t she? “Now, about your hair dye, I think there’s some left in one of my cupboards. Make sure you’re careful, we don’t want any of the kids finding it and turning themselves purple and blue.”

“When’s my interview with these people?” I asked with disgust clear in my voice.

“It’s at three this afternoon. Please be here, I have a feeling these ones will be the right people to be your adoptive parents.” Daniella explained.

“What makes you think that?” I asked bitterly, but before she could answer we both heard kids screaming. There was probably some teasing going on again. She left without responding to me, so I sighed before I turned to go find this hair dye and get rid of my horrid red hair.

I got the bottles of dye, and looked in the mirror. I saw a girl with dark blue, near black eyes, looking back at me. My very pale skin was lightly freckled, another downer about having red hair. I could never manage to tan, no matter how much time I spend outside, and with the amount I run, I should be very tan.

I applied the dye, and after waiting for a shit long time I rinsed my hair out, the colours going down the drain. My hair now had strong colours, the pastel purple turning into pastel blue halfway down the length of my strands. My hair went to about the middle of my back, practically the perfect length for me, the colours popping out more than usual against my black shirt. I went back out after drying my hair, putting my hair in a ponytail.

It was only eleven in the morning, meaning I had four hours to kill until these new people got here. Judging from how many people had thought they could change me into what they want for a child, but realised they hadn’t, I took a guess that I was probably going to the army soon.

There was one family when I was fourteen, they were pretty cool. The dad was a karate instructor, he’s the one who got me into running and keeping fit. He also taught me self-defence, well as much as you can fit into two weeks anyway. The mum didn’t want a daughter who liked doing guy stuff, but I should have been with that family a year earlier…