Novel & Cerita I Accidentally Washed My Hair Before Bleaching

My reflection stared back at me, pale and scared. Anna helped me part my hair, rubbing the color in with careful movements. The dark cream slid through my white strands, staining them quickly. I did the same for her, working quietly as the silence stretched between us. When I finally washed it out and looked up, I almost didn’t recognize myself.

I groan, “I hate it when that happens.” When even I wash my hair, I always get a slight burning in my eyes afterward. Steeping out of the bathtub, I stood in front of the mirror naked drying my hair, Blonde is a nice color but now I think I should try ginger, it will surely complement my skin— which oddly looks pale. “What the—” a knock on the door interrupted me, “Mel— breakfast is ready, I don't want it to get cold, and— we need to talk,” “Ok... I'll be right there,” I muttered.

"I’ll make sure you never forget." I grabbed the kitchen shears I’d swiped from the drawer. I hacked at the dark hair, watching the long, silky strands fall into the sink like dead things. Then, I grabbed the box of "Golden Honey" bleach I’d seen hidden in the back of the linen closet—the stuff Mom said we were too young for. I didn't care about being young. I didn't care about being pretty. I mixed the chemicals, the smell burning the back of my throat. I slathered it onto my head, my hands shaking with a fury that felt like fire.

The person that held my hair finally lets it go and I hear gasps. I finally bring my head back down feeling the liquid rush down my hair and shoulders. I look back to see who it was that washed my hair off and it’s just an old woman. She ignores my stare as she grabs the bucket and leaves. I look back at Xavier and he’s smiling. I grab my hair, bringing it in front of my eyes, I see that my real hair color is now visible to everyone. I didn’t really understand what dad was trying to explain but I believe people seeing my real hair color is a bad thing for some reason.

I added. Rui frowned. "Bleach for what? The bathroom?" I shook my head. "For hair."

I put my hands under the water streaming out of the faucet, scrubbing at my chest and arms, watching the red blood of thousands wash off of me. I dunked my head under the faucet next, trying to wash out the knots and clumps of blood. Of course, if something doesn't come out, I can just cut it out. I try my best to keep my hair short, but when the nightmare master has control, it ends up growing too long. I'm not really sure why I still bother to cut it because not only does it grow too long, but no matter how much I wash it, the tint of red in my black hair never goes away. I washed my hair until the water no longer turned red before shutting it off and reaching for the scissors on the count

She made me smile, and I let her innocence color my day. An hour later, we left the salon, elated. My brown hair had been dyed in various shades, with a fringe across my forehead. I loved running my fingers through it. Just weeks ago, I had refused to touch my hair because it held so many painful memories. A new haircut marked a new life.

It was a hard day, waiting until nightfall, but we didn’t waste a single minute. We planned how to find everyone. Mom bleached my hair until it turned completely white, then added dark streaks, alternating between white and mocha. "It looks good, but it's just temporary," I said to Mom, feeling the unfamiliar texture of my hair. "I'll dye it back to black," I smirked, feeling uncomfortable in my new look. "Do you want to save your friends, or are you going on a runway walk? Stop being such a baby!" She boosted my courage, her determination unwavering.

I made up for my insistence on abstaining by washing her hair. I’d noticed that with each washing, the boxed color was fading more and more. However, the color it was changing to, was not her original pale blonde. “Your hair is changing,” I commented. She nodded, “I noticed the color was fading, but it isn’t coming back blonde.” I kissed her freshly washed scalp. “You’re becoming that silver-haired beauty from Vell’s childhood.” She squirmed and wiggled and twisted so she was facing me, testing the limits of my abstinence.

Harley, my childhood friend whom we basically shared everything together stood in front of me with a beaming smile, her brunette hair bounced in silky waves, it was one of the many things I envied about her. My platinum blonde hair was something I didn’t enjoy having, it was weird that in a town of over twenty thousand people I was the only one that had a striking shade of white for a hair and so I did the only thing that would make me normal, I dyed my blonde hair black. Now that I mentioned it, it was about time I covered up my roots the white as peeking out in small strands.