What he had said to me during our talk yesterday has made me feel rather shy now. When I had gotten home, still in tears, I ran up to my room and looked at myself in my mirror. I hated what I was seeing. It was fucking December yet I still felt comfortable enough to wear a short skirt. Is it really such a crime to feel comfortable in your own skin? Because that's what Gerard made it feel like.
But I guess in a way he was right. If I did have blonde hair, I would be good enough to be a cheerleader, which is something I didn't want. My hair was straight down my back, but it was black.
I thought back to what he said about my voice being whiny. Was it whiny? Did I really ask stupid questions? I'm sorry if I want an answer to something I don't know. I also don't mean to sound whiny, but nobody has ever complained before.
I stomped out of my bedroom with my purse and headed out the front door. I was on my way to the mall. I couldn't let Gerard get to me, but he was, so much. I told myself I wasn't going to let him win, I wasn't go to take what he said seriously, but I am. I'm doing exactly what everyone else is doing, and that's going by his rules. I told myself I wasn't going to listen to him, but I can't stop myself.
I went through the doors of the mall and marched upstairs. I was in need to new hair cut. I new, better, less cheerleader hair style. And where better to get it done than at the mall? I looked around until I finally saw hair salon. I smiled, but it soon faded when I realized that if I went in there, there was no going back. This was my last chance to just ignore what he was saying and go home with my head held high.
But no. I didn't listen to myself, I was just letting Gerard win. I was going to let him take over my life and let him mess with it until I am perfect, until I am what he expects. I was going to let myself be his little toy until he got bored with me and went along to the next person who wouldn't have even seen it coming.
My feet started moving forward, toward the hair salon. There was no going back now. I was going to change who I was because Gerard didn't like it. He was controlling me like a little wind up toy, like a puppet. It felt like I had no control over my mind, but it was him telling me what to do, and I listened to him.
He voice was screaming at me to go through the glass door of the hair salon, to sit down in the chair, to tell the one of the girls I was in need to a change. The only thing that I felt like I had a say in, was the style of hair I wanted.
So I walked through the glass door and went up to one of the girls. She smiled warmly at me, and I forced one back, just to be nice. At least I knew that Gerard wasn't taking over everything; I can still be a nice person.
"Good, evening. What can I do you for?" Her thick southern accent asked.
Gerard screamed at me what to say in my mind, and I repeated them without hesitation, "I would like to change the style of hair." I said with some fake confusion in my voice, as if I needed help from her.
She smiled and stood from her chair. She gestured for me to follow her and then told me to sit down in the empty chair. When I sat, I saw that I was the only customer in here, "What did you have in mind?"
I searched for an answer, but the only thing I kept hearing was the word 'cheerleader... cheerleader...' over and over again in my head. I sighed mentally. So Gerard thought I looked like a cheerleader. I didn't want to look like one, but what did he want me to look like? He never said. I smiled when I came up with something. I had recently been on a website for different styles of hair and found one I quite liked. I told the lady named Sara what I wanted. She smiled and started.
I stepped out of the hair salon, feeling happy with myself. My new hair felt lighter on my head, and I have to say that it looked better than what I had before as well. Maybe Gerard didn't have complete control over me after all.
I had been able to shut off my mind and didn't hear the screaming of his voice. It was nice. I had a friendly chat with Sara, and she even offered me a coffee before I left, free of charge - for the coffee that is. I accepted, and thanked her. Now that I had stepped out of the salon, my mind seemed to have turned itself back on and the screaming was back.
All I wanted to do now was go home, but he had other ideas. He directed me past all the other stores, past all of the other people who didn't even bat an eyelid at me. Why would they? They didn't know that I had left my Art teacher who hated me take over my mind, and I was now doing anything he said. They didn't know I was his toy, his puppet, his robot.
I walked into the store known as Hot Topic. I admit, that I have shopped here a few times, but it wasn't where I really bought my clothes. Most of the stuff here just wasn't really me. But I guess being me just isn't good enough anymore.
My mind was screaming that I was to buy five outfits. One for each day of the school week. It also screamed that I could buy more after the week is over, or I could mix and match the outfits I would buy today. As I expected, I obeyed.
In the salon, I was able to choose the hair that I wanted. In here, however, I couldn't choose. Gerard, my mind, had decided what I could buy and what I couldn't. I felt like an empty shell just grabbing at random clothes, not looking at any of them. Even when I went to try the clothes on, I didn't look in the mirror. All I was in there for was to see if they fit, and then I would buy. Gerard told me that I didn't need five different pairs of shoes, but that I had to buy at least two pairs.
I wasn't worried about money. My mom allowed my to use her credit card, though I never have done before until now. I hated that I was spending so much on something that seemed so pathetic, but I kept in mind - the part that I had some control over - that this was a one off, and I would never use the card again.
I paid for my things, receiving a few weird looks from the guys at the counter, but I was told to ignore them and not to make eye contact with them. After paying, my mind was free of him, and I went home.
When I arrived home, I sighed with relief. This evening just seemed to be hell for me. I felt pathetic for letting him get to me like that, but what he had said hurt a lot.
I thought I would just have the evening to myself, but the harsh words of Gerard's voice soon filled my mind again. Your appearance, the way you present yourself makes me sick! The words from earlier today rang in my ears. I tried my best to ignore it.
The fact that you feel so comfortable in your body that you walk the halls half naked makes me feel sick! The words were the same, but the way he was saying them were different. In the classroom he just calmly said them, in my mind, he was screaming again. I tried to ignore them as I focused on the TV.
You may as well have blonde hair and jump about with pom poms! That one did it. It was the reason why I went to the mall in the first place. I hated him for saying that to me. I jumped off the couch and grabbed the Hot Topic bags. I ran upstairs to my room and stripped myself of my clothes.
I grabbed the first bag, slipping on the first outfit and looked in the mirror for the first time. I looked different. It was like I was looking at a completely different person. This wasn't me at all. That's what he wanted isn't it? For me to not be myself. He wanted something different and he got it.
I tried on all the other outfits, thinking the same thing about myself in each one. This wasn't me anymore. He had changed me completely in just one evening. I wasn't Sam, the girl who was comfortable with herself. No, I was Sam, a new person. I no longer had my legs on show, or my arms. My body was covered in these strange clothes.
I ruffled my new hair. It was a lot shorter than it was. My old hair came partly down my back and was all black. But now, it came just past my shoulders and my bangs were dyed blonde. At the salon, I asked Sara if it wasn't too much trouble in giving me a make-over. She said it wasn't.
My eyes were painted in a dark golden brown color. Outlined around my eyes was very thick eyeliner. My face was lightly covered in white make-up, I looked more pale than I had done. My lips were painted in red. I barely recognized myself.
Then I looked at myself again, top to bottom. What had I done? Why did I let this man who I didn't really know get to me like this? Why had I let him just take over my mind like that? I was slowly letting him control my life and I needed to stop it.
But it wasn't like that was it? He wasn't trying to take over my life at all. He wasn't forcing me to do anything, I was doing that myself. It wasn't my life he wanted, he just wanted something to play with, to entertain him.
Because I was his toy, what had happened this evening was evident enough. He was going to treat me like a toy, he was going to play with me until he was bored. Like I said, I was his toy, his puppet, his robot. Somehow, though he hated me, he must find something interesting about me to mess with me like this. In the store that was his life, he picked me off the shelf and bought me to play with. Because he had picked me, and he had bought me.
So what did that mean now? Of course, if a child was to buy a toy to play with, it was theirs forever. This is until another child went to grab it from the owner's hands, because that it was what the child is; the owner of the toy. They owned it, it was theirs for keeps.
So that meant only one thing.
Gerard Arthur Way owned me, and I was his for keeps.