Rapid fire lectures chastised Sapph through the bathroom door, her mother’s tears of betrayal giving way to anger. As the rawness in her throat crept up again, Sapph swallowed hard and locked the door, her blue-stained fingers shaking as she did so, leaving streaks of lightning on its knob.
            The bathroom light ate up Sapph’s complexion, flattening her features, painting her sallow. She typically would have frowned at this sight and dabbed rouge onto her milky cheeks, but she merely continued to paste the electric blue dye onto her hair. She did so numbly, fingers scrambling against her scalp, rarely stopping to smooth out tangles or check that each strand was coated evenly. Only when she scraped the bottom of the container did she pause, taking the first real look at herself.
            There was a miserable thing in the mirror, her hair hanging limply off her head, matted and slick with dye, ears stained lightning blue.
            Despite this, Sapph saw her complexion brighten, and she smiled weakly. As she rinsed off in the shower, the water muffled her mother’s fury over Christmas dinner.

            Sapph’s dress shimmered under the Christmas lights as she staggered up from her seat at the dinner table, swaying precariously on her heels as she beamed at her family. With an air of bravado, she raised her butter knife and struck it against the empty champagne flute, giggling at the chime it produced.
            “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a juicy declaration for you gossip aficionados,” Sapph slurred. “After years of your fun ‘guess-the-dyke’ game, I’m here to share a little secret!” Pausing for dramatic effect, Sapph gave her best wink and whispered conspiratorially, “I’m gay! The black sheep once again. Surprised?” Chuckling, she stumbled back to her seat, falling back into it as her legs gave way.
            The air was thick, oppressive even, as a strained silence filled the room. Sapph watched her uncles bristle, their glares sharp and cold like the darts they shot before diner. Meanwhile, her aunts brimmed with anticipation, their whispers begging to be passed around the table.
            Sapph’s mother felt a chill run down her spine and prayed desperately that nobody would question her.
            “Lyra, is this true?” Her sister frowned, unable to remain silent any longer.
            Keeping her head down, Lyra spoke, hoping her voice sounded steady. “No….it isn’t. She’s intoxicated. I wouldn’t raise……my daughter isn’t that kind of person.”
            Sapph, despite her stupor, understood the implications of her words, and stifled a sob.
            Lyra wanted to stop, but her family leaned closer, wanting more. Cursing Sapph for the cold turn of events, her voice hardened. “She’s not gay. She’s never had piercings, tattoos, or even dyed hair. She’s just being childish.”
            The mirror was now slick with steam from her shower as Sapph leaned forward, lining her eyes lightning blue to match her new hair. With a final flourish of eyeliner, she strode proudly out of the bathroom, beaming.
            “Sappho Callas! Your behavior was unacceptable. Do you know how ashamed I was?” Her mother stood in the dim hallway, her red-rimmed eyes stern. “Wait—what did you do to your poor hair?”
            Taking a deep breath, Sapph stepped past her and swung the front door wide open. With one foot already out of the house, she turned to face her mother, her hair incandescent with the color of lightning.
            “Nothing much, Ma. Just making sure the world knows who I really am.”