Wearing The Color Red

Chapter 5: Impersonate

The bell rings, indicating the end of the day as I begin to pack away my camera and portfolio binder. My last assignment for the semester was to complete my photography work by capturing "a day in the life of myself." Mr. Shuester, my photography teacher explained the assignment by telling us to capture an image of each day of the semester showcasing our current lifestyle. While everybody around me seemed thrilled about basing their work upon themselves, my stomach filled with dread.

My life is definitely not picture perfect, what exactly could I capture if nothing in my existence was something to be proud about? It's not like I can stand in front of the class presenting pictures of my brewed up father lying unconscious on the floor covered in his own vomit and urine, or an image of each hotel room that I worked in. I was currently struggling to complete this assignment when all I want to do is the complete opposite, hide myself and my life away from others.

I take my phone from my pocket and send Santana a quick text to let her now that I won't be catching a ride with her this evening and that I will give her a call tonight. The next two hours of my life would consist of me sitting in a classroom, continuously writing out the phrase "I will be a good asset to this school, and I will not portray myself to be immoral." I was absolutely dreading it.

I wave to Mr. Shuester while I exit the classroom and begin my route to the principals office. The corridors are filled with students collecting their belongings from their lockers, as they left for the day. While I try to keep my head down and not observe my surroundings I couldn't help but notice the peering eyes looking in my direction, and the continues whispers of people talking about the events of my actions this morning.

"I heard she threw hot coffee over Noah for no reason."
"What a bitch, she wants to be grateful that somebody as popular as Noah would even talk to her."
"I know right? It's not like somebody like her could have a man like him. The only male attention she gets is when she's sliding down a pole."

My head swivels towards the group of cheerleaders that glare in my direct, cackling like evil witches. I try to not look phased by their insensitive comments, but as my body fills with sadness my eyes burn with tears. I was used to the heartless words that was thrown my way, hiding away the cuts that scar my emotions, but that still doesn't mean I wasn't hurting inside. I mask myself with a carefree attitude, but in reality I was ready to crumble into the depths of darkness.

My sight returns back to the floor as I quicken my pace to the principals office, wishing the end of this day would come quicker.

***

My wishes are some what granted as detention goes by in a blur, as soon as the principal allows us to leave for the day I jump out of my seat quicker than the blink of an eye. I jog towards the bus stop on the other side of the school grounds while the cold breeze of January hits me, droplets of rain kisses my clothing and skin while the smell of wet grass teases my nostrils, I love the rain, it soothes me. After the day I experienced I was happy to see it come. I plonk myself onto the steal bench that was sits next to the bus stop, the bench is covered by a shelter so I'm not stuck in the down pour. I close my eyes and listen to sound of the rain tap, tap, tap.

I only have an hour to get home and dressed before meeting my client for work. DR hated when clients arrived at the location before one of his girls, he preferred for us to be acquainted with our surroundings, and to make sure that there was no unusual behaviour or strangers acting suspiciously, such as undercover police or potentially any rival workers.

DR has always destroyed any competition that may effect his own income, and has been one step ahead of any ongoing police cases about his empire. By having the girls and his own uncover men assess the environment, DR can allow the merchandise to be sold.

Perhaps the one benefit of the job is having DR's men to be at every meet, making sure that there is no complications with clients. Myself and the girls handle each transaction without any problems due to each client being informed about are own personal security guards. Our guards patrol the hotel doors to listen out for any concerning sounds that may indicate we are in distress.

Clients can some times become overly rough, but nothing that I can't handle myself. The short time working within this profession, I haven't had to deal with any mishandling.

Before I know it, I was on and off the bus and making my way up the front of my porch. My dads 1980 ford ranger is parked on the drive way, indicating he is still home. The chipped paint work and rusted metal showed it's unfair treatment and lack of care. I unlock my front door and walk inside to be treated by the same scene I left this morning, my father sleeping on the couch while snoring away. I slam the door behind me, unfazed about potentially disturbing my fathers slumber and walk straight towards my bedroom, without a second glance.

I close the door behind me and walk the short distance towards my bed, the wooden flooring creaks beneath my feet as I bend down and retrieve the large suitcase that is hid away from sight. Pulling on the zip I open the suitcase to observe it's contents. The various color of wigs seem to brighten my dull room as I choose my weapon of choice. Deciding on the short blonde wig with a full fringe, I place the wig onto my bed while closing the suitcase.

Time to get ready for work.