24 Carrot

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I tried everything I could to stop entering Poptropica. I knew in my heart that I was losing my chance to be free from my leg... And my life, but nobody wanted me in Poptropica. But I entered anyway.

I reappeared on Home Island again, but it felt different. Instead of a welcome, it felt more like a reminder of Fierce Fox yelling at me. I tried to shake the thought off, but it wouldn't go away. I sighed, giving up, and slumped down next to New You. What was I going to do? Fierce Fox would never accept me... But how am I supposed to leave if I don't complete the island? Maybe I could send her a letter... No, that won't work. Or maybe I could get someone else to play with her? But then she would wonder how they know stuff... Just like with me.

To distract my numb mind, I grouchily pulled myself to my feet and sprinted along the island, my eyes picking up on every detail. Poptropica is a strange, strange place. I could've paused and gazed at every miniature pixel for hours. But I didn't. I just kept going.

I almost slammed right into Fierce Fox, who was casually roaming on the bridge. I slipped into a bush, almost like a spy, watching my Poptropican. She had a neutral expression, albeit it still made me shiver. Her furious voice in my head... I gripped the leaves of the bush, mentally slapping myself. Come on, get over yourself, Alice. But I needed to worry... I needed to get her to complete the island with me... Or I would never get home. Then I got an idea.

I stealthy slipped out of the bush, bending my knees as my feet lightly brushed the ground of Home Island. The store I needed was in sight. Perfect. I almost grinned. I slipped the door of New You open, the strong scent of shampoo hitting my nostrils. The fashionista was there as always, admiring the outfits above her. I bolted past her, going to the next room, where the smell of hairspray was stronger than ever.

The two rooms are separated by a brick wall. The barber side is run by an old man with grey, spiky, curled hair and a pointy beard. On the sea-foam coloured tiles are pictures of hairstyling equipment. On the floor there is a large, red chair. There's also a shower in the corner, covered by a translucent shower cover, which said 'temporary hair colour'. The other side said 'permanent hair colour'.

I headed past the man and straight up to the 'temporary hair colour' shower, by mistake- which I didn't realize at the time. I reluctantly pulled back the curtain, surrounding myself in the green tiles. A huge, silver sprayer was in front of my face, with a keypad, showing different hair colours. I pressed the black hair colour and felt the sprayer's engine turn on. Black tar flew in my face, and I shut my eyelids tight. A few brief seconds later, a hair fell in my eyes. Instead of the regular blonde, it had become a jet-black.

I climbed out of the shower, my new black curls bouncing, and headed to where the clothes are. I fiercely tugged on the lever near the employee; the mannequins near the roof switched clothes.

"I guess it could work in the right light..." the fashionista commented thoughtfully. I ignored her and picked the mannequin on the end. A blue screen popped up in front of my face, giving me a view of the outfit. I smiled and pressed the items I liked with my finger. They appeared on my body, covering my old clothes.

I was now wearing a yellow t-shirt with a music note on the chest, a black jacket over the top. My legs were covered in navy blue jeans, and my black hair was tied up in a bun. A white baseball cap was slicked over my bun, the front pointing forwards. I gazed at my new appearance in a mirror, a name popping up in my head: Brave Tiger.

I exited New You, the jeans digging into my skin. My baseball cap tipped forward ever so slightly, covering my eyes. I inhaled deeply, puffing out my chest. I'm not Alice anymore. Storming forward, with a powerful spring in my step, I approached Fierce Fox, who was boredly humming to herself and leaning against her blimp rope. I cleared my throat, forcing my cowardice away.

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