UnScene #10

UnScene is a series of short stories I write about the  things I witness around me, or thoughts that I have about life and the world as I know it.  

Hair

One afternoon when I was in the fourth grade, I came upon my arch-enemy asleep upon her armchair in the empty classroom. Her face was nestled into her crossed arms and her long, wavy, perfect hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back. The room, the whole school, the whole world, at that moment, seemed to have shut up and held its breath, waiting for what I was about to do.

I stalked toward her, ever so carefully lifted a thick, silky lock of hair as I pulled out my scissors, and cut – quite close to the scalp. I looked down at the horrible stump at the back of her head and felt sick. I walked out of the classroom to the nearest washroom, and as I leaned over the sink I realized I still held Michelle’s hair in my hand. How unfair that it was so smooth and silky it didn’t even tangle in my grip. I threw it into the wastebasket and threw up my lunch in the toilet.

When I got home, I immediately asked to be taken to the salon for a haircut. I had them cut my hair so short, that people often mistook me for a boy in the days that followed.

And at school that Monday, Michelle had had her hair cut, too. But whereas mine frizzed and stood up randomly like my head was a nest built by a blind bird, Michelle’s hair looked cute and smart. I never felt so ugly as I did then.