Novelas y relatos de Bleached Dreads

Dresses, skirts, jeans, tops, shoes, a leather jacket that costs more than my laptop. "This is too much," I say as Caroline rings everything up. "Drey, seriously, this is too much money." "It's an investment," he says, handing over his credit card without even looking at the total. "In the new you." Caroline bags everything and hands them to Drey. "Now for hair. There's a salon two doors down. They're expecting you in fifteen minutes." The salon is just as intimidating as the boutique. The stylist, a young guy named Marcus, looks at my hair like it's a project he's excited to tackle.

For a moment, I was back there in a life I didn’t want to remember, surrounded by faces I’d long tried to forget. I tore my gaze away, heart pounding a little faster. I couldn’t let it show. Not even a hint of that past could resurface. Not here. Not now. I squared my shoulders and nodded at my reflection. “Time to bleach you out of existence.” The smell of bleach filled the tiny bathroom, making my nose wrinkle in disgust. I felt like I was withering away. It was pungent, seeping into every corner, mixing with the dampness of old tiles and mildew. I worked quickly, fingers gloved and precise, painting over every traitorous strand until I was satisfied. I watched as the brown vanished, repla

Karl’s muffled voice came through the door. “Karl!” “Hold on,” she groaned. I heard shuffling. More crashing. A suspicious thud. Then, the door finally creaked open. Karl stood there looking absolutely atrocious. Her curls were flattened on one side like she’d fought her pillow and lost. There was a visible line across her cheek from the blanket, and, there was drool near the corner of her mouth. She blinked at me slowly. “…Why do you look haunted?” I pushed past her immediately. Thankfully, her roommate’s bed was empty. Karl closed the door behind us with all the energy of someone spiritually disconnected from the world. “…Okay,” she yawned, scratching at her hair. “Unless someone died, thi

“Convenient for him, isn’t it? His troublesome wife slips out of the picture just as he’s settling down with his true mate.” Clara resumed working on my hair. “We still don’t know that for sure, Alpha.” “We don’t know otherwise, either.” We fell silent after that. Clara continued bleaching my hair, section by section, until my entire head was covered. Then came the waiting, followed by rinsing, toning, and more waiting. Finally, after what felt like hours, Clara washed the last of the chemicals from my hair and dried it. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. My once raven-black hair was now an almost white blonde. It made my gray eyes look pale and empty, and it didn’t fee

she snapped back. They brushed my hair until I was pretty sure my scalp was bleeding raw, applied powders to my face, and forced me into a dress that felt far too light and revealing. It was a deep, shimmering shade of midnight blue that draped over my curves in a way that made me feel exposed.

Faith distastefully spoke. Blaire smiled and sat on the mat as well. She was also wearing shorts and a sports bra like Faith, but unlike her – Blaire wasn’t drenched in sweat nor was she out of breath. There was sweat glistering her body, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as Faith. She had her hair neatly tied in a ponytail, whereas Faith’s hair was soaking in sweat and was sticking out everywhere. Faith feels envious of Blaire. Even after working out, she looks so graceful, while Faith looks like a fish out of the water.

BLADE 3. Pain. It was all I felt when I shot my eyes opened. I felt so sore and tired. The memories of how Lorenzo plunged deeper into me last night filled my mind. He was so cruel to me. I didn't find any enjoyment in it at all. I tried lifting my hands and I was happy It was back to functioning. My tit hurts too as a result of the sucking he did last night.

Amanda said, “Do you know how to plait? “ Zack inquired, “yes, I can try, even If I can not plait your hair perfectly, you can go to any nearest salon and you can even make dreadlock and It will befit you because of your color and the height,” Amanda says, and she started touching his hair, “bro, do you like dreadlock hairstyle?“ Amanda asked, “I don't like a man plaiting hair but I could only do it for one reason,” Zack says, “but I prefer washing my hair every time,” Zack says, and he asked, 'Tara do you want me to dreadlocks my hair?“ Zack,

He found a tainted scent leaving the bush, doused in bleach water. The bleach water was actually helping him to follow the trail easier now that she had changed into someone else’s clothes. Then she must have run out of bleach water, because the tainted trail continued without the bleach scent. He was impressed with her plan; she did it so well, so far. He was proud of her accomplishments; he could see them getting along like a house on fire. “Hey, Dale?” He called in mind link. “What?” He all but snarled with annoyance.