The buzzing sound of hair clippers filled the room as Yara stared in the mirror, carefully shaving the left side of her head. She started at the strip by her temple, cutting down until she noticed a long hair drop. Instantly Yara noticed a folly she had made, a mistake she made every time she shaved her head on her own. Her shirt was still on, she muttered some words of frustration under her breath and continued. She leaned her head over the sink further now to minimize the damage as she worked her way up the side of her head until she started seeing long hairs fall once more. Finally she set down the clippers and examined her work intently, it was satisfactory, her roots weren't showing yet, and when she ran her hand across the shaved section of her head and felt the soft prickly sensation of freshly shaven hair.

Pleased with her work she smiled, but the feeling was short-lived as it was quickly followed by a sigh as she pulled her shirt over her head. Within a few moments she was standing in the bathroom in her bra and pants, swinging her shirt against the counter, thankful that there was no outside observers to watch her actions, she paused for a moment to look around and make sure that was the case upon thinking about it. After she finished smacking the hair off her shirt to a satisfactory degree, it was finally time for the final step in what was probably the most annoying part of her life, the rinse.  Normally that meant another shower, but as of late she had been getting pretty damn good at getting it all off in the sink. She moved adeptly so the water swept away the hair remaining on her and dripped off before roaming down far enough to be a bother, it was a skill she was rather proud of, though she doubted many appreciated it.

With that tedious, boring, and all around horrible task that noone cares about completed it was time to go out and... Well honestly just wander. She crept out of a house that by all rights would more accurately be described as a mansion, black nail polish covering freshly manicured nails, cheap practical clothes, and driving a decade old car. Her defense mechanisms against  the outside world. certainly better than having a bodyguard like her uncle. 

It had been a few weeks since her last venture outside of the house. There was really no need, she could get anything she wanted there. But actually meeting and speaking to people in person was necessary sometimes. So here she was driving watching as the freshly mowed pristine lawns and gated driveways were replaced by cracked sidewalks and barred windows. She parked outside a pawn shop and left the car unlocked. She thought that if someone felt the need to steal her car, they obviously needed it more than her. 

And so she began walking, there was always something going on in this part of the city. The sound of distant sirens, the smell of tire shops, and broken catalytic converters, she probably only enjoyed it because she had never actually experienced it. But still it was something she loved. She just closed her eyes and took it all in as she walked down the streets. Something would come to her, as long as she believed it would.