Curly Heads Novels & Stories

I anchor it to her curls on one side of her head with a delicate clip that looks like silver baby’s breath. Calista helps me with my hair. We keep my thick curls, but Cali pulls them up, creating a large, bun-style look. Because my hair is so thick, the bun is extensive and comes nearly to my shoulders. She adds a silver baby’s breath clip to my hair as well.

I ran into the woods, trying to see someone but a man with a smirk appeared before me. He touches my curly hair. I did not move and stared at him. Why is my hair curly? I have straight hair. I shook my head and tried to think. “Miss me?” The man’s voice echoed in the forest, and we were instantly in front of a verge. I was perplexed, beaming around. “Move forward; you are near the ridge!” The man shouted while walking forward towards me.

Framed by delicate lashes, her gaze holds a quiet power, inviting connection and understanding. High cheekbones, sculpted by ancestry, lend regality to her visage. The bridge of her nose, a slender arc, carries the echoes of her lineage. A full, expressive mouth, adorned with a natural gloss, reflects a symphony of emotions waiting to be shared with the world. Adorning her head is a crown of tightly coiled curls, each strand a celebration of individuality. The curls, like spring tendrils, frame her face with an unrivaled natural elegance. It's a testament to the versatility and beauty found in the embrace of her natural hair.

“Where? I have another class so I can't go far." Ander turns to me and takes a handful of my hair. No, he doesn't grab it, he gently massages it. Archie's always told me my hair is soft. “Remember Andrez. Vicky or whatever the fuck you call yourself, when I ask you for your opinion, you render it. Shut up otherwise."

It was enough to make me fumble in my bag, pulling out the small mirror I always carried. The sight that greeted me was nothing short of disastrous. My hair, usually wild but manageable, was a storm-tossed mess. Curls stuck out in all directions, defying gravity and reason. Some strands jutted sharply outward while others clung flat to my scalp, creating a disheveled, almost comical picture. I let out a soft groan and dragged my hand through the thick, tangled mass, trying with little success to tame it into some resemblance of order. The curls resisted like they always did, rebellious, springing free no matter how many times I pressed them down.

Curly was in panic by seeing her niece this way. "No please! Let them go! You're hurting the Luna and the Prince! Let them go! Stop please?!!" Izzy shouted. Curly was scared. She thought that her niece had gone insane again, "Stop Izzy, you're scaring me" she said. She can't understand her niece again. She has heard about her madness. Could it be back again..? Tears filled Curly eyes. She thought Izzy was displaying madness. "It hurts Aunt! It hurts! Save them! Save them"