14. Bed Hair

The next morning, I was forcefully woken up. 

After weeks of sleeping on the road, I had hoped to enjoy the comfort of a real bed and a proper blanket for a little longer...

Still half-asleep, I opened my eyes and was surprised to find the white-haired man gently shaking my shoulder as the other children chaotically got out of bed and huddled in the middle of the room.

I wiped a sleepy tear away from the corner of my eye and did my best to get up as well. Just as I went to join the others at the center of the room, the white-haired man held me back by the shoulder. 

I looked up at him, confused. 

It was only then that I noticed his expression. 

He was angry… 

And shouting at the group of kids gathered in front of him too.

I looked once more at the kids. They all looked scared, sleepy and confused, and noticed some of them sneaking strange looks in my direction. Despite their overall pitiful expression when looking up at the man, I noticed that some of them seemed very amused when looking at me, which they tried their best to disguise.

From the way the white-haired man was acting, I guessed that whatever the kids were being scolded for, it was because of me...

Did they play pranks on me while I slept? I hadn’t noticed anything and I wouldn’t have had time to complain to the man anyways…

I scratched my head, still trying to figure out what was going on.

When I pulled my hand away from my head, I noticed pink hair stuck to my fingers. I was immediately filled with a feeling of disgust as I remembered the events of last night, but then a thought occurred to me. 

I looked up at the hand the man had been waving around for several seconds now and noticed, clasped between his fingers, a lock of pink hair. 

Mine.

He must think one of them cut my hair! At this rate, everyone will probably get in trouble because of me… Or maybe they already had.

I need to say something! Anything!

I tried to pull on his sleeve, but he didn’t seem to notice me as he continued scolding the others. I grabbed his sleeve again with both hands and pulled as hard as I could until. Although it still wasn’t enough to shake him, he noticed my efforts to get his attention and kneeled down to me, a worried expression plastered across his face.

[I cut it.] I tried to tell him plainly, but as expected, the man didn’t understand my words.

He showed me the strands of hair in his hand and pointed at the kids with an arched brow. 

He wanted me to tell him who the culprit was.

I shook my head.

[I said I cut it!] I repeated as I pointed to myself.

He still didn’t understand what I was saying as he turned back to the other kids and said something else with a stern expression. 

How didn’t he get that?

I know that when I speak, others only hear gibberish, but this is ridiculous!

I’ve had enough of not being heard!

I yanked on his hand as hard as I could to force him to pay attention to me.

Before I lost his attention again, I took a deep breath and puffed my cheeks. I would get him to understand, even if it was the last thing I ever did!

[I] I said as I put a hand on my chest.

[CUT] I declared as I motioned the movement of scissors with my fingers.

[IT] I finished as I yanked on my hair angrily and then pointed at the hair in his hand.

He looked at me, stunned. I could see the children around us muttering amongst themselves.

He frowned and mouthed something at me with an incredulous expression.

Without hearing what he said, I knew he was asking if I had really cut my own hair.

I nodded seriously.

I could see the other children reacting. Some were chuckling amongst themselves while others looked at me with a mix of disdain and pity… Most, though, simply looked away disinterested.

Was I too late? Will they be punished? Will I be punished? Are they angry with me?

It was too late to regret it now anyway, but I was scared of the punishment I would definitely be getting in a place like this. 

My sister had read me terrible stories of orphans being beaten or even killed in orphanages… It was just that kind of dangerous place.

He let out a sigh as he rubbed his eyes. He looked up at the other children and dismissed them apologetically. 

A younger boy with purple hair started crying almost instantly, and the man quickly rushed to him to console him. Obviously, they had been scared by the man’s reaction.

He hugged them one at a time as he spoke slowly with an apologetic smile. Once everything seemed back to normal and the other kids began heading out of the sleeping hall, I looked on nervously as he walked back towards me.

I recoiled in fear as he extended his hand toward me, expecting hit me or slap me, but, instead, I was presented with his open hand and a smile on his face.

Maybe I wasn’t getting punished after all?

He looked at me for a moment before leading me to his office. He made me sit on a chair at the centre of the room, where I waited anxiously as he dug for something in his desk drawer.

To my surprise, he pulled out a hand mirror and made me look at my reflection.

I don’t know what was the name of the emotion that rose from my chest, but it made me want to disappear. 

My hair was a mess. Not just a mess, it was like… A hurricane came through and ripped everything apart. My bangs looked like they had been pulled out like weeds; the right side reached my cheek, while the left side was cut almost to the root. Meanwhile, the back of my hair still reached down to my shoulders… 

In short, I looked like a clown.

I had seen my reflection many times in the past, but this was the first time that I was actually embarrassed about what I saw. 

Why did I do this to myself?!

“You look dumb!” Darkie said mockingly from my lap.

I let out a grunt of annoyance, which only served to bring out laughter from the man and Darkie.

Just as I was about to push the mirror away, something strange caught my eye when looking in the mirror… Or, to be more accurate, my eyes caught my eye. 

My entire life, I had seen their dull grey reflection in the mirror, and yet today they shone an astounding bright golden colour.

I yanked the mirror out of the man’s hands and brought it closer. I blinked and moved my head and eyes around, spread my eyelids apart, but this was no tricks of the light; my eyes were no longer the dull grey they had been before.

[They look just like Goldie’s…] I whispered to myself

The thought made my chest feel warm, but at the same time, confusion filled my head.

[Why are my eyes gold?] I said out loud, knowing full well no one would reply.

Was that normal? Did eyes change colours just like that?

Confused, I looked at the man and tried to point at my eyes, but all I received in return were confused looks. I tried gesticulating and pointing at my eyes more, but my burning questions never reached him. After trying his best to understand, he apologetically took back the mirror and put it away, much to my disappointment. 

He then took out a pair of scissors from his desk and began chiseling away at my hair. 

After several minutes of work, he looked satisfied and showed me my reflection once more.

I…

[...I look like a boy.] I said in an annoyed tone.

I let out another grunt, which only earned me an unimpressed look from the man. I guess it’s to be expected considering how much damage I had done to it… At least now it looked like it was done by a person instead of a deranged monkey.

After cleaning up the hair from the floor, the man put a blanket over my knees, gave me a picture book and went back to work at his desk while I stayed in the man’s office for the rest of the morning. He was probably reluctant to leave me on my own after yesterday’s incident… And last night. 

I flipped through the book, slowly going over the different images in it. I couldn’t read, but I could vaguely understand the story that way. It was something about naughty children being caught stealing cookies and being kidnapped by a witch or something like that…

Was the man trying to tell me something with this? Was I really that much trouble? Maybe the head maid had had a point after all…

It wasn’t until noon that we left his office for the dining room. During lunch, the other children glanced at me once in a while, but none of them tried to approach me.

I didn’t know what to make of their stares. Some were obviously very amused at my appearance, while others looked worried… Others, again, looked downright angry with me. Was it because I looked funny? Or maybe it was still because they got scolded because of me…

After lunch, everyone gathered in the main playroom around a small platform. The younger kids sat in front while the older kids began to set up curtains and decorations on what was shaping up to be a small theatre scene.

[A play?] I asked curiously.

The man released my hand and went to help set up the stage. 

I looked around for somewhere where Darkie and I could sit. I accidentally spotted the girl from yesterday waving at me, but I quickly turned away. 

I don’t want to be friends with someone who would hurt others for fun.

I found an empty space on the opposite side of the room and sat down. The kids at the front were starting to get up to the side of the stage in costumes. They were cheaply put together with pieces of fabric, but I recognised which characters the layers of fabric and paper were supposed to represent.

After all, I’d already seen this play a few times before.

“Do you know what play this is?” Darkie asked me.

[Yes. It’s one of the most well-known stories in the whole world. The only one you can read in every scripture, no matter the god: ‘Our Roots’.]

As I explained this to Darkie, the curtains were drawn with a single tree on the scene. The play began, and I watched the reenactment of the very beginning of the universe.