#he starts greying a few months in and considers dyeing it back to black till ford mumbles that it suits him

[mahkinarya]

tried on a new haircut in last night's stream

[as-the-world-rotates]

“Dear diary, today I learned something about myself…” Nora mumbled to herself.

Nora HATED the daily writing assignments. It was the worst part of school. If you could call the one tiny room she and 7 other girls were shoved into a school. Nora was 16 and lived in a group home. Her parents were addicts who were never in her life longer than a month or so at a time. Nora had been in foster care as a small child, but she became more and more rebellious as the years passed, and the state deemed her “unfit for society”.

It’s not that Nora was a “bad kid” she was just misunderstood. The years of being bounced from home to home, new moms, new dads, handsy “big brothers”... anyone would crack under the situations she had been forced into as a child. Nightmares were her safe place, for reality was always way worse than her wildest dreams.

“Today, I learned that yet again... no one gives a fuxk about me.” Her mother had missed another visit- no big surprise there. Her mother had missed all but one visit in the last three years. What was really bothering her, was the note she had received at lunch a bit ago. Ivy was the “popular girl”, which wasn’t much of a title in a home of only 8 girls with no contact with other teens.

The note was from Ivy. Ivy was 17 and was considered the “popular girl”. Not that the title carries much weight in a place you only see 7 other teens and have no access to internet. Jade had dark brown hair, almost black. She had managed to obtain hair dye, which was a HUGE Nono in the group home and had a streak of teal on her hair. Her grey eyes always looked like they held a secret of yours.

Nora shied in comparison. Mousy brown hair, shit brown eyes, and glasses. She knew she was nothing special. But for some stupid reason she had jotted a note in Ivys journal asking her to meet behind the large tree at lunch. Her hands had shaken as she took the note from Ivy. She excused her self to the bathroom to read it as notes were forbidden.

The words she read burned in her head- Behind the large tree? Why so you can try and kiss me or something you dyke!

The accusation of being a dyke wasn’t what bothered Nora, she had been called that on and off for several years... since the first time she kissed a girl at 12. Was she a dyke? She wasn’t sure what or who she was. But she was upset that ivy wouldn’t even consider meeting her.

Why had she thought it was a good idea... furiously she kept scribbling in her journal as her internal monologue was beating her up inside.

“Not only does no one give a fuck about me, not my parents, not my teacher (sorry miss adams), not the other girls, but I don’t give a fuck about me. I’m not even me! I’m not Nora. I feel so wrong in this body. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t feel like me. I look in the mirror and see a stranger, I’m more than my shell. I’m more than my record, I’m more than my behavior. But does any one see the real me? No! They just see this spoiled girl, who doesn’t listen and is a burden. Fuck that. I’m tired of being everyone’s burden. I’m tired of being alive. I wish I were dead”

Chest heaving she stared at her own words that she wasn’t aware were inside her. She knew she meant them, but she wasn’t aware how deep her self hatred had run. She wasn’t aware she had been at her wits end for so long. She started to panic. Miss adams could NOT read this. They would send her away. But ripped out pages were grounds for punishment.

She looked around for something, ANYTHING she could spill on her paper. As she stood up to refill her water bottle hoping she could tip it over on her journal, Ivy snatched her journal.

“Miss Adams! Look at this! Nora is unsafe!”

Miss Adams was always two steps ahead of everyone. She grabbed the journal and begin to read the entry from the day. “Nora, will you please head to Miss Avarados office now please? Tracy, you will go with her till she is inside.”

Noras shoulders slumped, she knew that this would mean at BEST a week or two of restriction. And at worst... the trash bags of her belongings would move homes yet again...

The door opened with a creak as Nora stared at her torn off brand chucks. Miss Alvarado was in the doorway looking as foreboding as ever. With her voice that seemed to vibrate off walls she stared at Nora,”thank you Tracy, you may go”

Inside the office was only furnished by the therapists desk, and two chairs. One for the overbearing councilor, and one for which ever girls turn it was to be miserable for an hour 2x a week.

“Nora, you are normally one of the ones I don’t worry about which is surprising considering your... track record... why did I receive a call from miss Adams to check my inbox for your journal entry? Are you really that unhappy you want to take your life?”

Nora continued staring at her shoes, maybe if she pretended this wasn’t happening, she could will it into reality. THWACK. Miss Alvarado had smacked the desk with a file. Not just any file, but Noras file. “Nora, I think the best course of action would be to send you to St. Peter’s for a few days for your own safety. You may return once your bout in St. Peters is over “

Nora stayed stone silent for a few moments. Tears welling in her eyes that she would never release, she steadied her voice,” I understand miss Alvarado. I’ll pack my things”

“Nora this is a temporary stay, that won’t be necessary. Bobby will pull up the van and transport you from the office.”

The car ride seemed to go on forever. As the evening drifted into darkness, Nora realized it was much too long of a drive. They should have been there ages ago. City turned to country roads and green hills. She had never been this far from the city. In the distance she saw a small orange glow. She had ridden with Bobby in complete silence besides the flick of his bic as he light up a menthol cool. She decided it was time to finally break the silence.

“Bobby... I’m thirsty... are we almost there?”

Bobby barely acknowledged her besides a small grunt. The orange glow grew larger and she realized it was a small building. She hoped this meant she could at least empty her bladder. It definitely was not St. Peter’s, but at this point she didn’t care where they were as long as they stopped. They pulled into a gravel drive and Bobby parked the car. He got out and lit up yet another menthol.

Nora tried to open her door only to discover it was child locked. The house van never had child lock on it. She began to pound upon the window begging Bobby to let her out. He turned from her and leaned against the drivers side door, staring out into the darkness. The door of the building slowly opened with a blinding light. A figure walked out of the front briefly blocking the light. As the person walked closer Bobby stood up and shifted his gait nervously.

“This her?” The new comer asked gruffly.

“Hey Chase, yeah. She’s ready for transport.”

Transport? What did he mean transport? Wasn’t he supposed to take her to St. Peter’s? Who was this new guy. Why were they discussing her like she was an animal?

The door opened and she was pulled to her feet roughly. She began to fight to try and get away. Chase tackled her to the ground. There were suddenly 3 sets of hands pinning her to the dirt. Before she knew it she was hog tied behind her back. Sobbing and tasting blood she started to black out as she was lifted into the back of a small sedan. She woke up what must have been a few hours later. It was still pitch black and there were two people up front driving.

Chase was behind the wheel, and talking to a woman in the passengers seat. The lady noticed Nora had woken up and nudged him. Instantly the silence was deafening. Chase turned around and swore under his breath.

“Hey Emily, we’re almost to the pit stop. About another hour.”

Nora tried to speak but her mouth was so dry she could barely speak.

“Uh... Chase... I really need to use the bathroom, and could use some water.”

“You can wait.”

“Babe... the girl needs the bathroom. Come on we can grab a drink when we stop.”

Thank god for Emily. The car stopped and she cut off the zip ties on Nora that had been holding her wrists and sat her up. They had apparently stopped at a seedy bar... she couldn’t go inside, she wasn’t even 18 yet, how did these two genius’s think they were going to get her in?

Maybe she could make a run for it once she got inside? CLICK. The sound was a cold metal handcuff being slapped on her wrist. The other cuff was clapped on Emily’s wrist.

“Just incase you got any bright ideas kid.”

Do you know how awkward it is to pee handcuffed to someone else? And of course the cuff was on her dominant wrist so it was harder to wipe in a tiny ass stall. Coming out of the ladies room Chase handed Emily a beer. Nora started to ask for water but they rushed out the door with a nod and “Thanks Tim” to the bartender.

Back at the car they started arguing about if she needed to be hogtied again. Emily seemed to be more lenient. And seemed to get her way. The car ride was strange... her caretakers seemed to be messing with her head. They’d go from silent abs ignoring her to telling her that they were getting married, to telling her they were sister and brother. No matter what the situation was she didn’t care she just wanted the ride to stop.

The sun began to rise as she started drifting off to sleep. Next thing she knew the door was being opened yet again. They were in front of a HUGE old building in the middle of nowhere. The building read “Mercury Ridge”. She had no clue where in the hell they had taken her. The building gave off a energy tht made her stomach turn.

They walked up to the building in unison. A guard took down their information and ushered Nora inside. She turned around to ask Emily a question, and both her and Chase had already left. The door shut behind her with a loud SLAM. The room inside held a few old chairs that looked like they were from the 80’s. You know the old fabric ones with that awful wood arms? Yeah.. those.

There was a huge reception desk and a sign that said “ authorized people only behind this point.” The man behind the counter looked like he couldn’t be bothered to even look up. He was balding and had sunglasses on indoors as if the lights over head were assaulting his senses. The guard walked her a thick metal door. There were no handles on the door. With a swift beep from inside the door swung open.

A tall broad man with thick curly hair and a darker complexion walked through, he grabbed her by the wrist and disappeared behind the doors. Inside it smelt of sweat and urine. A faint hint of bleach wafted to her nostrils. The man introduced himself as Anjelo. But it was more formality, not for conversation.

They went down a maze of hallways and doors. Every door they encountered was locked and Anjelo opened them with a badge. He finally said, “Here we are. Your new home. Girls Unit A.” Then promptly left leaving her standing there not sure what to do. A tall redhead walked up, and finally someone seemed to be able to see her.

“Hey, I’m Tasha. This is Girls A. Welcome. First we have to take you to your room and get you changed. Follow me kid.”

As she followed, faces peered out of doorways at her. None of the bedroom doorways seemed to have doors. Abs she passed a room the size of a tiny closet with the walls and floors all carpeted. There was a door on it, with a TINY window. At the end of a hallway before another set of locking doors, Tasha stopped and motioned into a doorway.

Inside were two wooden beds with matching dressers. One bed was made perfectly, the other had a set of sheets folded on it. Nora was instructed to strip, and a full body search which included a cavity search followed. She changed into scrubs the color of milky oatmeal. She want even allowed her own underwear.

“After you make your bed just hang out till we call you for group. Oh, by the way... your roommate should be back from lunch shortly. Her names Melinda.”

Holding back tears after being violated in such a manner under the guise of a search, Nora stumbled to her bed and began to make it. Her mattress ( it was less of a mattress and more of a yoga mat) smelt of bad body odor, and cheese. Laying down she began to sob. The tears stung her cheeks and she wiped them away with the backs of her hands. She inhaled deeply as the tears touched the wounds on her wrists where she had been restrained during her journey.

No! She would not let them see her break. She would get her self together and figure out where and what the fuck she was doing there.

[sunitachima]

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

36 has been a wicked year for me. First I felt I crossed conclusively the rubicon over to where I would never be able to say I am in my ‘early thirties’ again and ‘closer to 40’ somehow seems like a something I would put on my gravestone. It did not help that genetic predisposition kicked in with full force turning more than half my head grey. Oh, of course, I had angry strands standing resolutely out after delivering Ezra but they are on a malicious roll now.

What with a rapidly greying head, and other lady things to take care of, one day a few months ago, had me peering anxiously into the mirror. I usually put off threading my hirsute face until I could almost pass off for a baboon and so I wondered if I had to take that dreadful walk to the salon today and have them tsk tsk over me as they peer into my face. But what I saw made me my heart skip a beat. White strands of hair. From my eyebrows. 

The powder I thought. Perhaps when I was powdering the kids and sending them off in the morning looking like a couple of geishas. Wishing I could stretch the period of uncertainty, unable to contemplate the alternative, I mindfully licked the tip of my finger and brought it slowly to my eyebrows. The litmus test. The finger hovered then taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I rubbed the eyebrow. I repeated it once more before I dared open my eyes. But there it was. The white strands plastered down stared back, wondering what the fuss was all about. I screamed (silently) in horror. I couldn’t manage the other signs of ageing well enough to have one more added to the list!

The mirror was abandoned as I stuck my head in the sand for weeks on end. The result was disastrous. I had forgotten to dye my grey head in time for Ezra annual day. Panicking 20 mins before we were due to leave, I recalled someone mentioning hair mascara to me. In my frenzy, I did not make the obvious assumption that it was probably a mascara stick meant especially for hair and not the type I had in my drawer. But I wasted no time in applying it to my greys and what with the upward motion I adopted, I had a head looking like black sleek needles had been poked into my scalp. Well, black needle-like hair was better than limp grey I thought as I rushed outside to put on my shoes. I heard a shriek of horror from the main door. Looking up I saw my helper, staring at me wide-eyed pointing to her forehead. I realised I was sweating but wondered what the fuss was about until I swept my palm across to wipe off the sweat. Black sweat. Ink like drops dripping off my head making it look like squids were squirting from my head.

And so it was common sense more than vanity that beckoned me back to the mirror and I knew that those miserable strands of hair loved company and were encouraging the rest to do the same. Last week I decided to take stock and was horrified to see more than 20 strands beaming beatifically back at me. Nothing would shake off that despair which hung like a cloud over me. Except maybe Beauty and the Beast. So last Sunday I decided to take it easy. To cart the kids to the cinema and have Disney transport me elsewhere for two hours. Part of me also wanted to do a Facebook check-in to poke fun at my Malaysian family and friends who were not going to be able to do the same for the ‘coming soon to the theatres near you’ was true for this movie if you considered the 5-hour drive to Singapore near enough.

I booked the tickets, packed the kids into the car and drove to the mall. We were so excited I promptly forgot about my white eyebrows. Isn’t it right when they say being with kids just makes you feel younger? True that, if you were all working concertedly towards the same goal. In this case, it was to have caramel popcorn. Lots of it. Enough to last them till dinner. It was a Sunday after all. The day I took as a god given right to have some semblance of a break. It started off so well. Popcorns orders were given while we were at our seats, so no long queues or having to watch Ezra try to run off with a nearby dustbin while struggling to pull out the right notes for the exasperated cashier. We were all settled in with our 3D glasses on and save for Ezra who kept shouting intermittently for all to hear that he is oh-so-tired of the glasses, the expedition was going better than planned.

Until Belle decided to throw her father out of the Beast’s jail and to lock herself in. It was while that gripping scene was unfolding that I took a handful of popcorn and shoved it into my mouth.

C-R-A-C-KKKK.

I had bitten hard into a kernel. So hard I had shooting pains in my temple. After the initial pain wore off I felt something poking against my gums. So for the next 90 minutes, I had all my fingers in my mouth trying to pry whatever it was out my gums. This ordeal continued at home until the next morning when I realised that there were no remnants of a kernel stuck anywhere. I had simply cracked a tooth. I promptly called my eldest sister to cry and then the dentist for an appointment this morning.

I was confident it was going to be a simple procedure. In this day and age was it too much to expect a superglue meant for teeth? I didn’t think so. Until the dentist told me he would be removing that very big chunk of the cracked bit and perhaps would have to remove the entire tooth if the remaining bit couldn’t stand alone. With the suction hose and mouth mirror still in my mouth, I demanded to know how long fixing a new tooth would take? 2 hours perhaps? He told me nothing could be done for a few months. I started so hard I kicked the dental tray and over that din of falling tools, I told him I wasn’t going to leave for Malaysia next week, a vacation I have been dreaming about since I got here 11 months back with a gaping hole in my mouth where a nice tooth should be! Hell, I wasn’t even going to ever step out of the house!

He knew he was dealing with a madwoman and decided that we should take it one step at a time. First the local anaesthesia. Probably gave me much more than needed to shut me up. Now with a numb face and saliva drooling out over a bib, frantic eyes darting all over looking for answers, I prayed fervently. He removed the offending piece. I almost collapsed when I took in the size of it. He examined what remained of the tooth and decided that in view of my impending trip, he would insert a screw to prop it up. In a haze of immense relief, I thought of all my body parts that could also do with a prop up but would never live to hear those magic words being uttered.

He finished off by sawing the lower half of the tooth so I wouldn’t bite into it and repeated more than once that this was a temporary measure at best.

I ran out of the clinic before anything changed and headed to Mcdonald’s for ice cream. I had to repeat myself as the words wouldn’t form properly seeing that I had no control over half my face.

I am still in a daze but so grateful the dentist managed to salvage half of the tooth. I’m busy now, packing for the trip back home next week and I am sticking with porridge for now. For if I lose a tooth in Malaysia having a scrumptious meal, I would be in glutton-heaven and it wouldn’t feel so bad.

Exciting times, being closer to 40. Between a headful of grey hair, white eyebrows, a sawn off tooth threatening to be a gaping hole any moment now, you would be forgiven to think I was auditioning for a role as Queen Grimhilde in the next version of Snow White.