Page 20 of Lying Hearts

Chapter Twelve

Annie

Same second. Different mirror. Hung-the-fuck-over.

Iguess I fell asleep, because it’s suddenly noon and my mouth tastes like a pig’s bed. My head pulsates with the worst headache since gin-night. The alcohol showed me no mercy; I remember everything. I remember the way he looked at her. How he called her ‘gorgeous.’ I remember skulking off to a bedroom at the party and talking to some girl for hours about the travesty that is man. I remember roaming the streets at an ungodly hour, realizing it’s called ‘ungodly’ because no one roaming the streets at four in the morning when the bars close at two, is going to be attending church anytime soon. There are some scary people out there, and for some reason (could be the booze), I didn’t care. I remember the fight with him, touching his face, crying, and losing my friend as she stared at me like she didn’t understand why.

But most of all, above everything else including my own hurt, I remember his beautiful eyes staring at me like I was a Rubik’s Cube he couldn’t understand. How could he look at me that closely and not know I’m the one? It’s so obvious to me, every time I look at him.

The answer stares back at me from the mirror and for the first time, I see the truth. Black streaks dried on my cheeks are a map of my misery. I dye my hair out of the box – this is no expensive salon job – and my hair looks stringy and ugly. I’m still wearing the outfit I wore last night and there is nothing attractive about it. It’s so obvious why he overlooked me.

What man would look at me and call this gorgeous.

I have to change. Gone must go the Goth look that I’ve hidden behind for so many years. It’s time to become the kind of woman who can attract a guy like Brendan Clark.

Opening up the drawer below the sink, I pull out the scissors.

Holding up a long black lock, I take a deep breath and snip it right off. In slow motion it falls to the floor. I’m going to go back to the color I was born with, and see if I can stop hating myself so much. It’s a terrifying idea to try to be seen, but it’s exhausting being this angry all the time. Something happened to me last night. Something broke through my anger and got to the root of it. And in that root, I found the truth – I’m just really, really sad inside. Really lonely and sad. I’m not doing what I want to with my life. I’m barely getting by, emotionally. It can’t be like this all the time, forever. I have to take a leap into life and hope the net will appear.

Cutting lock after long stringy lock, I watch the hair fall. And with it, my old identity.

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