Landed Wings

chapter 30: PREPARATION



ASHLYNN

Mocha’s still not back. I’ve been reading some of the books that were in my room, and watched a movie I couldn’t focus on. I’m worried, but I don’t want to go out and try to find him, only to find out nothing happened. But he left hours ago, and I don’t know what to do. I pace around the room and sing “Losing My Mind” softly to myself. Finally, all that’s left to do is just lay down. Some hours later, Mocha comes in and puts some stuff on the table. He goes into his room without looking at me at all. I pretend to be asleep and close my eyes down to slits. He closes the door. I am finally able to close my eyes and drift to sleep. The next morning I wake up, and Mocha isn’t here. There is a note on the table on the front of table.

“Ash. I’ve gone out to handle some stuff. Be back before

tomorrow.”

And that’s it. The hair dye and tons of makeup are still on the coffee table. I pick them up and go into the bathroom. The hair dye is fire-engine red, which is good. I’m not sure how well it’ll come out on my black hair though. I open the package and follow the instructions. About thirty minutes later, my hair is wrapped up and cooking inside a plastic bag. I sit on the couch and turn on the TV. There’s nothing on that really interests me. America’s Next Winged Model is on, and the girls are taking photo shoots while flying. Typical. The closer we, I get to tomorrow, the more nervous I feel. There’s the hair, the makeup, the…oh man. I don’t have a dress. I didn’t bring anything here that I could wear to the performance. Maybe I can put together something that will work. I go into my room, into the closet and see something wrapped in plastic. It’s a long white dress. Of course, I should have known. Mocha thinks of everything. It is a long, floor length dress made out of the

viscose. I put it on, and it is gorgeous. The material hugs my body, but flairs out slightly at the feet. It is an off-the shoulder (both shoulders) long split sleeve dress. The neckline is straight, leaving my collarbones exposed. The sleeves are tight at my wrists. There is a gold headband, Old World style with many bands, and gold high heeled sandals. The dress will hide how high my heels are, making it difficult to guess my height - perfect. The whole ensemble is beautiful and it makes me a tiny bit less mad at Mocha, but only a tiny bit. I go back and sit on the couch, but when I look at the clock, I realize that it is time to wash out my hair. I go into the bathroom turning on the shower water. I wait until it gets hot, then remove my clothes and step in. I turn around so that the water rushes pleasantly over my wings. I open them behind me slightly so that the skin behind can get clean too. I use my favorite soap, Pomegranate Passion, and wash all over. Finally, I take the plastic bag off, and let my hair fall free. I have really long hair. It falls all the way to my waist. I can’t see it, but I turn around and let the water run through it. I do this until the water stops running red and runs clear. I try not to look at it before it clears, because it looks like I am bleeding out. I wash my hair with shampoo, also Pomegranate Passion, and condition. When I step out, I gently rub the mirror with my hand to clear the fog so that I can see my hair. I am shocked by what I see in the mirror. My hair did turn red, but not fire-engine. It’s more of a carrot like color with weird streaks of brown, and a few black. It looks like calico hair, except red and not blond. It looks pretty cool actually. It looks weird with my face though. Really full red lips, angular cheekbones, and dark green eyes, compliments of Mocha. All this with calico hair. It’ll take some getting used to – I don’t even recognize myself. I wrap the towel around myself and lay on the couch. My hair will dry straight. Mocha is still not back. I wish I had a phone so I could call him. It’s ridiculous and stupid that he is always talking about me leaving, and he’s gone and left me for practically two days. I put the orange pillow on the couch under my head, and put my arm under that. I always feel sleepy after taking a shower. The TV is still on, and some kind of Air Ball Game is playing. I turn the volume down and close my eyes. Before I know it, I’m asleep.

A hand is touching my hair. I grin sleepily and turn over.

“I just wanted to give you this.”

He hands me a pair of gold earrings dripping with small

medallions.

“I couldn’t find any like these when I got the dress so…you have seen the dress right?”

I don’t take the earrings from him.

“Yes, I have, and it’s beautiful. But you know what’s not

beautiful? You leaving and not telling me where you were

going to be. You going and abandoning me for almost two days. Leaving me some vague note. Doing exactly what you accused me of.”

I’m yelling in his face, but I recognize that behind my anger, all I want to do is cry and kiss his face because he’s back here with me, and safe.

“Ash, I’m sorry. Ok? I’m sorry.”

“No, not okay. Why would you do that?”

Tears of frustration, anger, and pent up anxiety form in the corners of my eyes.

“Why would you do that?”

“Oh, Ash…I didn’t mean…I just thought…”

“You thought what? Did you ask me what I thought? Huh? Don’t think for me. There’s no excuse. You could have felt what I was feeling, tried to listen to me but no, instead you just decided to leave and assume. Well guess what? Right now, I don’t want you here. Leave me alone. I have to rest before tomorrow.”