Novel & Cerita Stupid Haircuts

It didn't do much, but it helped me release the pressure that was on my head. The hair on my ends is like a vessel for all the negative energy and I always feel relieved when it is removed. Unfortunately, Rafaella is too excited, and perfunctory. That was the first and the last time she helped me cut my hair because she traumatized me, and made me into an embarrassing high school girl. At that time, I always wore a hoodie and a hat wherever I was, except at home because many of my friends made fun of me, and became the subject of ridicule by the motherfucker named Kevin. Luckily, my hair grew fast, and Mommy helped me with hair growth treatment, so I didn't have to endure the embarrassment f

I whisper aggressively. "It's not because of me? Are you sure?". It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him that he gives himself way too much credit. My long, thick hair had been perhaps been the only thing that I hadn't been able to let go of from my past. There were good times once, or rather manageable times when I would sit in front of a mirror with Mama while she brushed my hair out. She would run the comb through it's thick length down my back and when she was done, would braid it into thick pigtails that I loved to swing around. When things started to go wrong when she met Rick, I had still kept the hair in the hopes that someday she would look at it's tangled mess and tell me that I n

My thoughts grow even darker. Before I know it I am in the kitchen holding a steak knife. The thought of ending it all in the forefront of my mind. All it would take is two little cuts and there wouldn’t be mental institutions, no humiliation, no more delusions, no nothing. Yet, I don’t move. The faces of my parents and my friends flash through my mind. They wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t know why I did it. I drop the knife into the sink.

What they didn't know is that I have enjoyed fantasizing about them for years. Colleen is the oldest of the three of us. Over her teenage years, she had often clashed with our parents. At sixteen, she had gotten a seriously short haircut and had gone through a rainbow of different hair colors. The entire family had been shocked at first. Colleen had beautiful, long brown hair almost to her waist before that first drastic buzz cut. It had been an act of rebellion, aimed at our mother. In that regard, it had been a success. Mom wept openly when she saw what Colleen had done to her beautiful hair.

"Do you want to hit me instead? I'd rather you take it out on me. You know I can't stand seeing you cry." When I was a child, Andre always used to calm me down by softly stroking my hair whenever I was upset.

"Seriously, man. What’s going on? Need money for a hairdresser?" My brother laughed and started signing to me. "What?" Sienna looked confused, her gaze bouncing between us. "I like your hair longer. It gives you that old money look," she said and brushed a few strands from my eyes. It felt so good I nearly groaned. "It’s not about looks," I said, lowering my voice. "It’s a superstition. A silly one." "Please, enlighten us. What’s with the mop-top loyalty?" I sighed. "It’s something I’ve done for a few years. I let my hair grow during the hockey season and only cut it after I get what I want most."

Her girls burst into giggles when they saw him. "What?" Ben asked looking at them. "Your hair!" Savannah and Madison snorted. "My hair? What's wrong with my hair?" Lucy went to the bathroom and returned with a hand mirror which she handed to him. "Ben, it may be time you got a haircut." He looked and saw his hair at his temples was curling up like two devil horns. He snorted. "Oh, that's because I was unconsciously playing with my hair while I watched the simulations run." He tried to flatten the hair down but it refused to lie flat. "OK, maybe a haircut is in order," he admitted with a grin.

“I know a guy.” “Are you sure about this?” the stylist, a guy named Marco with purple hair and super sharp eyeliner, asked for the third time. “Once I cut it, it’s gone.” I looked at myself in the mirror. At my long, boring hair that I’d been hiding behind for years. “I’m sure,” I said. Marc smiled. “Okay. Let’s do this.” I watched in the mirror as he gathered a section of my hair and sliced through it with scissors that looked like they cost more than my rent. The long strands fell to the floor, and I felt my stomach fall along with it.

The cut was decent and cute, but she was no professional. “What do you think?” Kan looked down at Mr Grigor, but the man was already shaking his head even before he finished speaking. “I already think she would make a pyre with our bodies as it is.” The man grimaced, and Kan began to laugh. Then he shook his head at the barber. “No haircut for you then, buddy.” He looked down at Oliver, who babbled back. Kan got a haircut too, although he had a professional who came to the house weekly to do the job.

“I had wanted to do this for the longest time, you have beautiful hair don't get me wrong but it's just needs a trim, actually how about shaving it all off little one. Its okay if you don’t want to but between you and me I’ve seen a trolls nest that’s prettier than your head right now. I glared at him and he held up his hands in silent defeat. He was right my hair was a mess. Not only that I have tried and tried over a dozen times while I was in the shower to wash away the dirt and grime that was in it, even the shampoo didn’t lather up, the dirt was too much. I failed miserably. So with a reluctant nod I accepted his offer, after all it was hair and it would grow back. There were patches fu