Isis stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring into her own eyes. The reflection looking back at her seemed like a stranger. It was an eerie, unsettling sensation. The more she stared, desperately trying to recognize herself, the more upset she got.
The vanity lights reflected off the blades of the scissors sitting on the counter.
She leaned forward, gripping the edge of the sink. Her fingers were cold, like she’d dipped them in ice water. Everything about her life felt like that lately. Cold, dull, unfamiliar.
She had been reading a self-help book that said something like “Small changes can help you reclaim yourself.” So, she was going to make a change.
She tilted her head from side to side, examining her dark hair, resting just at shoulder length. It wasn’t really long enough to cut any shorter, but she desperately needed a change. Something that erased the old version of her and made her feel like a new person.
She carefully parted a section of her hair, pulling it forward and imagining bangs. Imagining herself different. The girl in the mirror looked unsure, but also a little hopeful.
“Okay,” she whispered to herself.
She picked up the scissors with one hand and held a carefully parted section of her hair with the other hand.
Snip.
Well shit. She froze, heart pounding. It was uneven. Too short on one side. She took a few more snips.
She put the scissors down and fluffed her new bangs. They actually looked pretty decent. Maybe not salon‑worthy, but they framed her face in a flattering way. Then she paused in confusion.
She looked softer and… younger. How did she manage to make herself look younger when the last couple months made her feel so significantly older? Then… she laughed. A light, unexpected sound. It felt like a crack in a wall she’d built around herself.
She continued to fluff and adjust the new fringe until the hair sat just right. She looked into her eyes again. For the first time in weeks, she smiled at her reflection. She saw a girl who had been through hell and survived.
A short while later, she layed on her bed with the lights off, listening to the hum of the ceiling fan. Her bangs brushed her forehead every time she blinked, a constant reminder that she had done something brave.
She was thinking about the girl she used to be. The girl who did as she was told, who wanted to please her parents, who never knew sadness or fear, who grew up so innocent. That girl felt far away now, like a childhood friend she’d lost touch with.
Now she was a girl who drank at parties, who got drugged at parties, who flinched at the slightest touch, who woke up with her heart racing.
Her phone buzzed, jerking her out of her thoughts.
Jackie: OMG. Send pic. Now.
Isis smiled, a tiny tug at the corner of her mouth. She sat up to take a selfie and when she looked at it, she saw her tired eyes, but she also noticed something different glowing underneath.
She sent the picture to Jackie.
Jackie: YOU LOOK SO CUTE. Like… new‑chapter cute. Healing-era cute.
Isis felt her throat tighten. Jackie always knew how to say things that made her feel seen and understood, without coddling her or making her feel damaged.
She clicked her phone off and lay back down, her bangs tickling her skin again.
She wasn’t fixed yet, but she was ready for her “healing era” as Jackie put it. Cutting her bangs was one small step, and for tonight, that was enough.
The next morning Isis got ready a little early. She wanted to catch her parents before they left for work and see their reactions to her new hair.
She walked over to their bedroom and knocked on the door. Her mom’s cheerful voice said “Come in!”
She opened the door to see her mom leaning forward at the vanity, applying mascara. The sight of her mom with a belly still caught Isis by surprise, and she smiled seeing her looking so radiant.
“Hey mom.”
Trella screwed the mascara shut and turned to look at Isis. “Oh wow! You cut bangs! Do you remember when you were a little girl, I wanted to give you bangs? You cried and wouldn’t let me!” She laughed as she waved Isis over so she could get a closer look.
Isis walked over to her mom. “I had forgotten about that! It’s funny because I feel like I made myself look like a little girl. I’m not sure what I think about them.”
“I think you look beautiful, honey. What made you want to cut them?” Her mom asked, zipping her makeup bag.
Isis paused. She hadn’t talked a lot about her feelings lately but she missed the closeness she used to have with her mom. She missed her mom being her best friend.
With a sigh she said, “Honestly… every time I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t recognize myself, after…” She paused.
Her mom, recognizing the importance of Isis confiding in her, didn’t interrupt. She just listened with a smile on her face.
“Well, I just wanted to make a change. Something different, since I feel so different, I guess.”
Her mom stood up, a little slower than usual because of her belly, and rested her hands gently on Isis’s shoulders.
“No matter who you decide to be, no matter who you become, I’ll always love you. You’re so brave.”
Isis opened her arms and embraced her mom.
Trella nuzzled her face in Isis’s hair, her favorite thing to do ever since Isis was little.
Alec walked in at that moment and paused a few feet inside the doorway. He didn’t interrupt, just admired his beautiful wife and daughter having a sweet moment together. When they stepped apart, he noticed Isis’s hair and exclaimed, “Hey! Look at you! That’s a nice change, Isis. You look lovely.”
She turned to her dad and smiled shyly, “You think so? Thank you dad.”
Then she walked over and gave him a hug too. Her was surprised and caught off guard, but oh-so-happy to return his daughter’s hug.
When Isis turned the corner and saw Roman at his locker, she snuck up, poked his arm, and stood there smiling.
He turned, and a look of surprise washed over his face when he saw her. “Oh my gosh! Isis you have bangs! Wow, you look amazing.”
He stood there, smiling at her. It had become an unspoken rule that she was the one to initiate any physical contact. Although he hated it, he just wanted to show her that she was in control, and he would be there when she wanted or needed.
She leaned in and hugged him, even lifted her face for a kiss. It was a sweet, chaste kiss, but they both knew how much it meant. They pulled apart, holding hands.
She fiddled awkwardly with her necklace.
“Thanks. Are you sure they look okay? I feel a little childish.”
“Not at all! I love them! I love you!” He exclaimed.
They both froze.
He just said I love you.
She looked into his eyes and he didn’t look away. He squeezed her hands and she squeezed back. She loved Roman. She had for a long time now. So why couldn’t she say the words back?
She stood there, watching the light fade from his face, replaced by an uncomfortable smile as he said lightly, “It just came out, doesn’t have to mean anything. Let’s get to class, yeah?”
Lately all she seemed to do was put sadness in his eyes.
To take his sadness away, she lifted her arms and embraced him. He was taken aback by her actions but cautiously lifted his hands to circle her waist. She kissed him suddenly, in a desperate attempt to feel normal. To feel something. He physically relaxed in her arms, but as they kissed, she felt pieces of her heart shattering.
Because although she pretended everything was fine, and all she wanted was for him to treat her normally – deep down she knew she was the one who had changed. Something was stolen from her the night she was assaulted, and she was not the same person she used to be.
She broke the kiss just as suddenly as she initiated it and gave him the brightest smile she could and said, “Let’s get to class.”
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