Dear Olive

Dark brown hair fell to my feet in little clumps. The clippers that I bought at the local pharmacy were having a really hard time shaving my head, so I had gone for the scissors in the kitchen junk drawer. I intended to hack away most of my hair with their silver blades and then quickly buzz of the rest.

It had been maybe a half hour since I started and I was almost halfway done. Not bad progress, in my opinion.In the end I would go over everything with a razor.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, I’d never bought a razor before that day. I knew enough not to buy the cheap disposable ones, but there was a major price jump up to the better quality kind. Almost 25 dollars later I was that much closer to a shiny scalp.

I realized that I might have to start shaving my face as well. What had always been a little peach fuzz was suddenly a five o’clock shadow darkening my jaw line. I wondered how I would look with a full beard. The thought had never occurred to me before.

I ran my hand over my chin and strongly considered a goatee. Maybe that would make me look too much like Edward Norton in American History X though. I wasn’t really going for the deranged Neo Nazi fashion statement.

The light outside my window was grey and watery, by the time I finally ran both hands over the smooth surface of my scull. I adjusted myself to different angles in the mirror to take in what I’d done. My skin was pale and unmarked except for a small dark place on side of my head.

Was it a birthmark? I thought about touching it , but changed my mind and went to shower instead. I stripped down and ducked under a warmer than usual spray. It burned a little, but I appreciated the heat.

I stayed under the water until it turned slightly cool. Then I got out and toweled myself dry. As I did, I couldn't help but catch my reflection in the steamed bathroom mirror.

Who was it looking back at me? Would anyone recognize that hard looking young man at Charlie Monroe? I certainly didn’t recognize myself.

I thought of Olive and wondered if she would know me. I wondered if she would be happy that I had changed. Did happy even exist for her anymore?

I didn’t dwell of that question or any of the others I asked myself. Dr. Edelstein had suggested that I try to stay out of my own head and trust my instincts as much as possible.

I remembered the first time the doctor had shown me my new face. The eyes were the only part of myself that I knew right away. The muscular body and handsome features did not belong to me, but those eyes did.

I had inherited my mother’s strange dark blue eyes. They looked almost violet in a certain light. Of course my only attractive attribute was the one I was allowed to keep.

“What do you think?” Dr. Edelstein had asked. “Remarkable isn’t it? Your body is bigger and stronger. Your hair is thicker and healthier. You are the best version of yourself that you possibly be.”

“So it’s over? I’m reborn now?” I asked as I ran my fingers through my hair. It was a darker shade of brown than I remembered and longer too. It blocked my vision to the point that I wanted to tuck it behind my ears.

“Well, there are a few days of adjustment ahead,” Dr. Edelstein said slowly while still somehow managing to flash his perfect smile.

Normally it would have driven me fucking nuts, but I was having a difficult time concentrating on any one feeling. Maybe it was the drugs wearing off after they put me out.

By a few days, Dr. Edelstein meant exactly two. They released me back into the world on Wednesday. I did not return to school that day or the next or any other day after that.

Maybe the change had turned me into a master of avoidance, but I didn’t want to see anyone or admit that I’d given in. There were still whispers in the back of my consciousness that screamed that I’d betrayed everything I used to believe in. With a little concentration I could silence them though and move on to other things.

Those things included passing a high school equivalency, finishing my emancipation paperwork, and of course selling my grandmothers house.

Yes, I had dreams of staying a child forever...
I once read though that hope is the dream of a waking man.