I looked at my figure in the long mirror that went from the ground to the ceiling. How pure I looked to myself, what a good person they thought I was. Well, I was going to change that look today. I'm tired of what I do! People always think, "Killers love to kill" or "they do it for their own enjoyment". No, that's not why. It hurts afterward. I grabbed the ends of my blonde curls and cut them, watching in silent joy as they fell to the floor. I smiled. I then got the flat iron from my vanity and plugged it up. While waiting for it to heat up, I went over to my older sister's room. She was always dying her hair, so I think she may have what I need. I looked in her bathroom in the cabinet. Jackpot, I thought to myself when I found black and blue hair dye, she won't notice this; she still has enough.
I set them down on the vanity when I noticed the iron was hot enough. I lay my hand on the metal part of it and didn't move. It should hurt, but for me it didn't. I moved the straight iron to the roots of my hair and, straightened it out, going from root to end. When I was done I started with the dye. I carefully alternated between black and blue, starting with the top layer; going again from root to end. I then did the next layer and the layers after that, the same way. I looked to my left at the alarm clock. In fifteen minutes my parents would be awake and expect me to be in the shower. I read the box again and saw that it said to wait twenty minutes.
When the time was up, I stepped in the shower and rinsed my hair out. Luckily, by hair stayed straight, instead of coiling up as usual. I looked at myself in the mirror again. I ruffled my hair up to the point where it had a boyish quality to it. I took a deep stare into my eyes. Even though it might be the only way my friends would notice me, I decided to change my emerald green eyes to a dark, cobalt blue. I slowly put the contacts in perfectly, not slipping even once. I winced at my new look, even though I wasn't finished. I coated my lips with the same dark blue color as my eyes and put on black eyeliner and mascara. I looked at myself one more time, slightly proud of myself.
I walked into the schools courtyard wearing my dull uniform of black and silver. They found a way for me to actually hate wearing my favorite colors. I sighed when I saw Carter, my best friend. He was looking all over the place, probably for me or Elise, the other friend in our trio.
"Looking for me?" I said as I walked up to him.
"Eithne? Wow, you look, uh… different." He said surprised.
"Yeah, I'm surprised you actually recognized me. I changed almost everything."
"Not your voice, still the same enchanting accent." I'm surprised I haven't seduced him; he may be the only person I decided to let off the hook.
"Huh, never thought of that." I was keeping my eye out for Elise; she wouldn't be able to find out as quickly as Carter did.
"Well, who's the new chick?" Elise asked, really rudely.
"Um, she's Eithne, can't you tell?" Carter laughed.
"Yup," I said, "anyway, why would you have a problem with me being new?"
"Well, looking like that? Maybe." She said. At that moment I felt further away from her at that moment. I didn't care that much, I was sure it was just that moment.
"Anyway, how was your…" I started to slowly stop speaking when I saw a boy being pushed around by the football team. He seemed new, and of course, he was emo. That's all the jocks would ever do, pick on the emo 'freaks'.
"How was my?" Elise asked when she noticed that I trailed off.
"Wait, stay right here." Before even I got a response I was rushing off to help him. This was completely out of my nature, but something told me to go.
When I got over to the scene, I cleared my throat. Jackson, the head of the group, turned to look at me. "Oh, another fag to have fun with eh?" He laughed.
"Jackson, if you knew who I really was, you wouldn't have said that." I laughed, forebodingly.
"Oh really? I don't believe I've seen you before."
"Does the name Eithne ring a bell?"
"Eithne? Oh god, I'm so sorry! I-I didn't know it was… Look, I'll leave him alone if it bothers you."
"Good, now drop him." I commanded. Jackson and his thugs slinked off after and the boy got up and glared at me.
"I didn't need your help, but thanks anyway." He started to walk off, but then he looked at me. "Cool hair, by the way."
"Wait," I said. He turned around and looked at me impatiently. "At least tell me your name." I half asked, half commanded.
"Ciaran, but people who respect me, or are just lazy, call me Ciar. All others call me 'fag bag'." He said; he had a rich Irish accent. I loved it, and it's rare for me to love something.
"Well, I'm Eithne, but my friends call me 'Ace'."
"Gosh, I'm going to just go now. See ya later, maybe." He was already halfway across the school before I could even choke out a farewell. I wanted to see him again so bad, but I knew if I developed some feelings for him, he'd be next.