The Truth About Her

Monachopsis. (n.) The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.  ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ GOLDEN LOCKS FALL OVER THE WOODEN floor, soundless. The only thing that can be heard is the sound of the scissors as it keeps cutting more strands in swift moves with anger. The reflection in the mirror looks so different, yet the same. With clenched teeth and eyes brimming with tears, the light blue of the iris has seemed to dim. Any amount of reason now is gone, replaced with irrational thoughts filled with fury. She has been through this before, the moment where your brain isn't working rationally when all you want is to let out all the steam, one way or another. And she hears the knocks on the door but decides to ignore them. Because if she opens that door, she'll have to face what she has done, to go back to reality. Oceana only wants to stay there, locked in that bathroom, where her sobs punch through, ripping through her muscles and guts. She lets the scissors fall to the ground with a metallic sound. And her shoulders shake harder when she sees the reflection in the mirror. Oceana doesn't want to be like this. She wishes for this condition to disappear, but she knows that's not going to happen. Her hair is shorter now, uneven, of course, a few inches over her shoulders. She wipes away the tears with the back of her hand and breathes in deeply. Her nose is red, and her eyes, as well. Usually, she'd try something to hide the fact that she's been crying, but Oceana knows her sobs could be heard outside. Inhaling deeply, she turns the doorknob and opens it, stepping out of the bathroom to head downstairs and to the living room where she knows her father is waiting for her. As soon as she gets there, she notices how the mess isn't there anymore. "I'm sorry, dad," she whispers. Oceana lost count of how many times she has said that to her father. Every time she has one of her outbursts and episodes. Gregg Hemmings loves her daughter endlessly, which is something Oceana knows and it's sure of. Her father has been nothing but patient and supportive of his daughter, even before they found out about Oceana's behavioral disorder. When she has her episodes, all he does is comfort her and help her, even if he might get hurt in the process. "It's all right," he nods slowly and cups her face. "You cut your hair again. Doesn't look as bad as the last time," he states, trying to make her laugh, and it works. Oceana laughs faintly. "Third time's the charm, right?" "Right," he plants a kiss on her forehead. "Why don't I help you with that project, yes?" She shakes her head. "I ruined everything and..." She sighs. "I'll have to buy all the materials again." "Don't worry about it," Gregg smiles. "I'll drive to the store and get you everything you need. Just give me the list." Oceana knows how hard her father tries. On a daily basis, he tries to help her, makes her feel comfortable, keeps her from being in any sort of situation that might irk her or annoy her. And it's only because he worries about her safety. Though, he can only do that when she's home. Oceana is an architecture student at Berkeley University. She's home now because of spring break. Her professor of G.C.I (General Construction I) assigned the class a project before spring break. It consists of making a scale model of famous buildings and skyscrapers of the world; each student has to do one specific building. She decided to do it now, to not lose time. Oceana has to do a model of The Petronas Towers, and it's not that she finds it hard. Oceana is very skilled when it comes to doing scale models. But her concentration and patience are not quite helping. Long story short, she made a small mistake while doing the scale, but that small mistake meant having to start the project again when she was almost finished. That only angered Oceana; in response, she destroyed all the materials for the scale. Her father arrived home a few minutes later, and the realization hit her: she'd have to start all over again and buy everything she needed. That caused her to have another outburst. She was angry with herself for not being rational and giving in so quickly to the rage. That's why she ran to the bathroom and cut her hair. Her father doesn't understand why she does it. But in reality, there's a reason, and only she knows it. After taking her purse and saying goodbye to her father, she gets out of the house even when he insists she stays. The store isn't really far from the house, and since her father works a lot, Oceana just wants him to rest; that's why she decides to go to the store herself. Even when she'll be exposed to the public eye and will have to interact with people, running the risk of seeing some familiar faces, which will most likely recognize her. She gets off the car, walks into the store, and heads to the hall where the work materials must be. With a shopping basket in hand, she shoves the things she needs inside of it. "Oceana?" A voice calls from behind, and she instantly regrets leaving her house. The girl standing in front of her has a pixie haircut, somehow highlighting her big brown eyes. She looks different, but Oceana remembers her anyways. She can't forget that face, not even if she tries. "Lyla, hi." "It's been so long. You look so different. I didn't know you were in town." Oceana hates that she's acting like this, along with every single word that leaves her lips. "Yes, I came to visit dad," Oceana says. And Lyla would have to be stupid to not sense how uncomfortable her ex-best friend is feeling. "Oh, yes. I see him all the time," Lyla exclaims. Gregg is an accountant and works at Lyla's father's company. "If I had known you were in town, I'd have called you." And that is a lie. Mirefield is sort of a small town, where everybody knows everybody. Lyla surely knows from the beginning that Oceana is in town. "Yes, I wanted to spend some time with my father, you know." "How long are you staying?" Asks Lyla. "Maybe we can go out to catch up and remember the old times. Are you free tonight? The girls and I are going to this new club in Chicago; it's only a thirty-minute drive." "I don't know. Maybe dad has something in mind; I'll have to ask him." Oceana knows her father isn't planning anything, but she's not the same girl she used to be. The girl that spent all her days surrounded by people she thought were her real friends. "Oh, come on. I haven't seen you in years," Lyla insists, hands together in a pleading way. But Oceana has seen her over the years; she just avoided Lyla, so she couldn't see her. "I bet your dad won't have any problem with you going out one night." "Why don't you give me your number? If I decide to go, I'll text you, okay?" She replies, eager to leave the store and go back home. Lyla nods and gives her phone number to Oceana. "I better get going. It was good seeing you, though," she smiles, and Oceana fights the urge to smack that smile off her face. "You too," Oceana forces herself to smile back. "See you around," she walks past her, not waiting for another response and fighting the uncontrollable feeling of disquietude in her chest. When she reaches the checkout counter, she pays for her articles and leaves with the bags in her hands—that way, she makes it to her car and drives back home. Once there, Gregg and Oceana start doing her project again; this time, she tries her best to stay calm. Oceana comes home all the time, on spring break, summer vacations, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and on any sort of holiday. Unlike other people, she doesn't attend parties or any kind of social activity. Most of all, it's because of her behavioral disorder. Oceana is patient for a minimal amount of things; those things she can even count with her fingers, and people aren't one of them. Especially in that town, where everyone that knows her story will look at her and, more likely, give her some dirty look. That's the main reason why she left that town, and why when she comes to visit her father, she barely goes out. She hasn't had any sort of trouble at college, but somehow, she feels like people know. Like if they know what she did and the kind of condition she has. Her father tells her it's just her imagination and that it'll go away, but in three years, it hasn't. The house bell rings, and Oceana and her father share a look since none of them is expecting anyone. She gets up, heads to the door, and opens it, only to find a very smiley Lyla waving at her. "Hi!" Oceana looks around as if she doesn't understand why Lyla is standing at the door of her house. "Hi? What are you doing here?" Oceana isn't really good at hiding her annoyance this time. Then again, Lyla seems to be too dense or oblivious. "Well, you never texted me, so I decided to come," Lyla raises her hands in the air. Oceana contemplates two options: 1. Slap her, tell her to never come back, and kick her out of the house. 2. Ask her to come in and be as nice as she can afford to be. Her dad gets ahead and says, "Hi, Lyla. What are you doing here? Come in." If there's one word to describe Gregg, it would be polite. The turn-the-other-cheek kind of guy, which is something Oceana will never be, and it's not like she wants to. She admires her father for having so many good values, such as honesty and kindness, but she knows she'll never be like him. They're all in the living room when Lyla responds, "Well, I ran into Oceana earlier at the store and invited her to go out with me and some friends. I hope she decides to come with us." If I had decided to go, I'd have texted you. Oceana thinks to herself, biting her tongue to keep herself from saying it out loud. "Oh," Gregg eyes Oceana briefly. "We were doing a project. We got caught up in it," Gregg explains, and Oceana rolls her eyes. "Yes," she says, imitating her father's tone, looking at him. "Lyla, if you excuse us for a second," she raises her index finger and then beckons for her father to follow her to the kitchen. She doesn't care if that's rude. Oceana stopped caring about what people thought a long time ago. Once they're in the kitchen, he says in a whisper, "Why didn't you tell me you ran into Lyla?" "You know I only tell you relevant things. That didn't seem relevant to me," she mumbles. "Do you want me to go?" "If you want to," he says, and Oceana narrows her eyes. "I don't want you to go just because I want you to." That only earns him a glare from his daughter. "Don't look at me that way." Oceana knows he wants her to go. He always tells her to go out and have fun, which is something she hasn't done in a long while. The last three years of her life have been all about college and her father, and she has become a very withdrawn person. But her father doesn't know what happened between Lyla and Oceana. He doesn't know the real reason why they stopped talking, and their friendship died. Then again, that was years ago, and one night out won't do her any harm, right? "Oceana, if you're thinking about what happened in high school, that was years ago. Nobody probably remembers that. And about your mother..." he tries to comfort her but talking about Oceana's mother isn't really easy for any of them. "It wasn't your fault." "Okay, spring break is all about having fun, right?" She fakes an excited expression. "Besides, if anything happens, you can call me," he suggests. At that, Oceana smiles. "Dad, I'm 21 years old. If anything happens, I think I can handle it, right?" She's only teasing him, though. "Well, you'll always be my baby girl, even if you're 60 years old," he jokes. "You really think you'll be alive when I'm 60?" She laughs gleefully. "Wow, is my life expectancy so low for you?" He puts his hand over his chest, acting offended. "If it were for me, you'd live as long as I live," she admits sweetly. "I couldn't live without you, dad." "Yes, you could, and you will," he brings her in for a hug. "Enough with that. You go get ready, and I'll stay with Lyla." Why would a person in their right mind go out with someone that turned their back at them? But maybe Lyla wants to make it up for her. Truth be told, Oceana only wishes to have a moment where she can have fun like any other person her age, and this might be the chance. She's in her room while her father is downstairs with Lyla. Oceana's hands are sweaty, and she despises that but ignores it, getting in the bathroom to get ready. After the shower, she chooses her outfit. A dark red cropped jumper, high-waisted distressed black jeans, and black high-top vans. She takes the scissors and fixes the haircut she gave herself earlier on her rage episode when the tears made her vision blurry. And combs her hair neatly. Once finished, she grabs her purse and phone, heads out of the room, and down the stairs to the living room. Lyla suggests they should go in the same car, so they can spend more time together. Oceana mulls over her words but accepts. They say goodbye to Gregg and leave. The ride to the club is immensely and notoriously awkward. They don't speak, but Oceana sees how Lyla parts her lips every few minutes but then shuts them again. As if she wants to say something but doesn't dare to. She has no idea of what her ex-best friend wants to say but stays quiet. When they are in the parking lot of the club, Lyla turns her face and says, "I'm sorry." She blurts out, but Oceana saw it coming already. "I know that's not enough. But I want to be on good terms with you again." "Lyla," Oceana says and clears her throat. "I only came here because I know my father wanted me to." She omits the part where she hasn't done anything remotely fun in a long time. "What happened in the past, it's in the past. I'm going back to California in a few weeks. Let's just have some fun, okay?" Oceana isn't trying to make her feel better. She just feels uncomfortable in these sorts of situations. "Okay," Lyla nods, and they both get out of the car.