* 𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐭.
It’s time to change.
At this point, she was questioning if what she was doing was right.
Perhaps she wasn’t changing herself, but only giving her hair that much needed upgrade that had been on her mind for months now. She said she only wanted to try something new, but the truth was that dying her hair was a way to change herself, to not look in the mirror and see that black haired girl who was sinking too far into that ocean, wide and vast and cruel in its depth.
At times she wanted to scrub away at her soul in order to change herself or rather, fix herself into someone new. Someone better. Someone worthy of walking the earth.
“Change is good,” she tells her dad as the hair-dye streams down her clothes and onto the bathtub. She can feel her father's gloved fingers kneading the color through her hair, making a mess. And she lets him. After all, she asked him to be the witness to this transformation.
“You look pretty. Mom would’ve liked it.”
The bathroom light above her is flickering, a slow, methodical yellow that illuminates her now blond hair. And as she stares in the mirror, her sanity knocks at her door.
Was this really the right thing to do? What does it matter if she can’t see the darkness in her hair anymore? Had that fixed her soul? Was she any different now?
“I’m blond now. I’ve changed.”
Have you really?
It’s time to move.
The sun paints her neighborhood in soft hues, warm tones that bring out the best of the afternoon. Sunlight seeps in through an open window, a slight breeze makes the curtains dance. She’s sprawled across the bed like a starfish, one of her hands is gripping onto a photo-frame, thumb hovering the glass like it wants to touch beyond it. How long has she been like this? – It may have been just two minutes. Or an hour. Maybe close to two now – She wouldn’t know.
Thinking is more tiring than talking, in her opinion. She doesn’t want to think, tries to push the saddening realization away from her mind, but after the millionth time of not thinking about it, Sua comes to the conclusion that it’s impossible to ignore the inevitable. She has to leave this pretty little house behind if she wants to start anew.
A new beginning. A new Sua. She could be so much more than she is now.
She sits up. Quiet, exhausted from thinking. She’s wearing the kind of hoodie that swallows her up instead of hanging off her shoulders. And when she closes her eyes, it feels like she’s here.
“Mom… I’m going to your homeland. I’m going to South Korea.”
A batted pause, she smiles, relaxed. Maybe she’s been ready for this sooner than she’d thought.
