Smiling Equals… Chapter 1

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Fuck. I did it. I can't believe I really did it. Me, of all people. Really and actually did it. Why the hell did I do this again?!

Okay, panic attack coming on soon. Gotta calm the fuck down. And when did I start cursing! Holy crap! The world is going to end! I just know it! This is why people don't do things that are out of character! This is why people don't change! I'm totally freaking out here!

I sat on my couch for two hours hyperventilating, crying and pitying myself with my fingers dug into my scalp. I sat hunched over wondering what the hell would posses me to cut my hair.

Okay, I understand how hacking off your bangs wouldn't be such a big deal unless you're like really serious about that kind of stuff, which I'm not. But it's a seriously big deal when you're an unnaturally shy pre-teen nerd whose been hiding behind their bangs since they were five!

It's an effing catastrophe!

I glared accusingly at the scissors in my hands.

It's their fault! Okay, not really. But who the hell left a pair of scissors 'conveniently' on the coffee table so just when I come home from a day of patheticness and being ignored and filled with a stupid desire to change and be something more than the no good idiot that I am- I don't even know why I referred to myself as a nerd when I'm failing all my classes!

Okay. I'm crying now, no, weeping actually.

Of course it was me who left the scissors there. Who else could have done it? My dad's MIA and my mom went AWOL a long time ago, and not because they're in the military. It's not like they'll suddenly come back to this crappy house and leave a damn pair of scissors of all things as a fucking clue that they actually, god forbid, give a fuck about their only son. If I actually am. Who knows how many side families they have? Especially that bastard father of mine.

Ugh. Damnit, I gotta calm down. I collapsed into the couch while tightly gripping the scissors.

I remember. I've been debating about this for months, about changing myself, and I figured the fastest and easiest way would be to cut my bangs. Since I gave up on studying and being social a long time ago. I… just couldn't. Remembering how I would stare forever at my reflection, holding the scissors just a breath away from my hair. Slowly squeezing 'til I saw that one strand fall, before literally throwing the scissors and running away in fear. God I suck.

The me being the idiot that I am must have ran to my room, hyperventilated a bit, before noticing I was literally five minutes away from having my ass handed to me cause the Disciplinary Committee would come and there was still proof of my existence in the house. So I went back to the bathroom and cleaned up. Cleaned up as in grabbed the scissors and drop them on the coffee table, for who knows what reason, and made myself scarce.

Apparently, I've skipped school so much that members of the disciplinary committee personally come to pick me up (kick my ass) and escort me to school.

When I had came home in all my worthless little glory I had looked around and saw the emptiness of the house. I just felt so angry, and the scissors were just lying there I just-

I sighed. I guess I should just be happy I didn't stab myself or take it out on this ratty old couch that is really comfortable right now or something even more drastic.

Slowly I lift my hand, letting my fingers flutter over what's left of my bangs. I can see better now, that's for sure, and I don't have to squint or fight the need to push my bangs back just to see even a little bit better. But I just can't believe that I'd hack away like that. I'm glad I had enough self control before I had cut my nose off or something.

Thirteen years of a shitty life, I sighed tiredly, and my first act of rebellion against myself was caused by the anger I've been trying so hard to hold in.

What's done is done, but… did anything even change? I'm still an idiot, I'm still a loser, and I still can't do anything that could possibly defy my apparently permanent no good status. No future goal or ambitions. I'm a nothing and always will be. I know this and no amount of a hair cut is going to change this. I sighed again, the revelation killing off any hope I could've possibly had for myself.

I shake my head seeing strands of brown hairs fall free. I decide, finally sitting up and actually looking at the floor, I should clean this mess up. I mean, if I don't then who will? All I got to keep me alive is some mysterious cash that shows up in my mail box every month from the same person who pays the bills for the house. The letters sent to me says it's from my granddad but since I'm seriously doubtful and don't remember ever meeting a grandpa who is actually still alive from either side of the family, I figured that it's just some pedo who gets off from helping little boys. I never reply to the letters 'cause my life is shitty enough without getting kidnapped and raped.

I saved up all the money I could under my mattress 'cause who knows when I'm too old to be pedo'd on. Probably when I become an adult or something. I just hope the guy doesn't suddenly bang the door down demanding his money back because of how impossible it is for me to stay a child forever, but knowing my luck he probably will and high chances he'll even be a yakuza.

I've been left alone in this house long enough, after my mother went officially AWOL, to learn that cleaning is a lot easier then living in a filthy house and risking injury on already throbbing bruises.

So I take the broom and the dust pan, swept up all the hair, and saluted a final goodbye to my forever lost follicles. Hey, I have the right to act stupid in my own house, not like anyone can see me. I sighed.

Hesitating for a moment I decide, well I might as well go and see the damage. I'm gonna have to live with it after all until my hair grows back, which unfortunately for me, will take a long time 'cause I've never cut my hair before and my bangs only reached the tip of my nose. All my other hair ended up defying gravity in one way or another. Though hanging my head down low did leave the impression that they were longer.

One trip up the stairs and another through the correct door 'cause I'm still stupid enough to occasionally get lost in the same house I've been living in since I was born. I looked at my reflection.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit-

I can see my face! Holy shit! I have brown eyes!

Yeah, I've might've mentioned earlier that I've been hiding a good portion of my face for the majority of my life. And you know that whole, if I can't see me then you can't see me proverb that is most likely wrong and might not even be a proverb since I don't know what a proverb is, but since every person in the world intimidates me, I had no problem following it.

So this is my actual face, clearly and completely visible. Shit. I traced the curve of my cheek, the bridge of my nose, and lightly flicked my eyelashes. The reflection copied all of this perfectly.

What the hell was I thinking?! No! I wasn't thinking! Why the hell wasn't I?! Why did I even consider this in the first place?! I can actually see my face! My unnaturally huge bug eyes and everything with it! And I'm actually… paling? Crap, I'm freaking out so bad that my already pale skin decided to turn even lighter! Ugh! Fuck my life!

No… this is my fault. I hunched over, leaning on top of the sink with my head hanging pathetically, bumping the mirror.

I'm so stupid. I squeeze the tears out of my eyes, scrunching up my face.

Well, maybe it's not that bad. I mean, I'm an ignored existence at school. Even to the point that all the bullies forgot me. Who would even notice? Well, actually no one would. Why am I even freaking out about this anyway? No one knows my name, not even the teachers. My no good nickname was forgotten in elementary school and so was everything else relating to me. A complete and utter nobody. The only reason I go is for attendance, that I check myself since the homeroom teacher always skipped over it. I could leave anytime I wanted as long as the D.C. didn't see me who for some reason had a freaking radar on me. Obviously I would be noticed only by the people who I didn't want to be seen by the most.

I sighed, relieved this time. It's no big deal. It's normal for people faces to show, I'm no different. If I keep my head down and keep my eyes squinted no one would take notice of my pathetic little face. I thought on this. My mother was a beautiful woman and if what I remember of my dad is right, he was actually handsome when he wasn't drunk off his ass so how did that combination end up with this. I've got rid of all the pictures in the house 'cause they'd just make my chest hurt, so I can't really go back and check.

I take another look at myself. Maybe I can wear a mask or something. I sighed and shook my head this time. Even someone like me can see the obvious stupidity in that idea.

I felt like I should at least fix my bangs, not that I really believe that I can or anything and nobodies even gonna notice if I don't. But the big chop left them all uneven and it's not like I can make them worse. My face is already visible to the public and an inch shorter really wouldn't make a difference.

I make angular cuts in an attempt to match the rest of my spiky hair and I flushed away the lost strands. Looking in the mirror I think, yep, can't get any worse.