Stupid Haircuts Novels & Stories

"It's getting long. You look like a depressed poet." Sebastian opened one eye. "Is that a compliment?" "No. You need a trim. We are going to a party to fight monsters, right? You need to look sharp. Like a CEO, not a hermit." Sebastian touched his hair. "I haven't been to a barber in three months." "I can do it!" Harper volunteered instantly. "You?" Sebastian looked skeptical. "Yes! I'm a pro!" Harper ran upstairs and came back with a black kit. She opened it to reveal professional scissors, combs, and clips.

he said as I stared at him through the mirror as he effortlessly cut my hair. “And you chose cutting hair as a coping mechanism?” I asked as he stopped, looking up at me before continuing, “I had a lot of hair growing up so my father taught me to cut it, and when I did, I felt a sense of relief like I was cutting off my problems and struggles to grow into something more positive,” he said as I spaced out, “I never thought of it like that,” I said as he shrugged, “That’s just how I see it,” he said as I continued to space out.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even realize that they had both entered the room. Justin closed the door and that's when I realized he was shirtless and didn't even have a gash. "What happened to your stab wound?" I croaked out. He laughed bitterly as he looked down at me. "Babygirl I've been shot and stabbed with real knifes multiple times. A piece of glass can't hurt me." He explained as he looked down at my body as if it were a piece of meat. "But you were bleeding you should at least have a scar." I said in confusion.

You'd think being ten minutes late was some kind of world-ending crisis. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" I yelled back, rolling my eyes as I put the finishing touches on my pixie cut with a single purple streak in the front. Short black hair wasn't just a style; it was a statement, and you couldn't just walk out looking like a mess.

Megumi replied back with a thinking emoji. Why you do have to be so cute no matter what you do? It's annoying. I comb my medium and bleached hair as I stare intently at the pair of scissors in front of me and black shampoo. I sighed in frustration as I went to bed, "I won't let a text message from Megumi decide the fate of my beloved hair." Yet just as Iay back down, I stood up just as quickly and waked my younger sister up holding a pair of scissors and said, "Hey, can you cut... my hair?"

I went on rambling and was surprised when he bursted our laughing "What's funny?" I frowned and watched as he struggled to swallow back the remaining laugh "You should see your face babe" he smiled "Of course I would still love you with a shaved head but that's not what I'm asking you to do. I'm only saying that you should probably cut it shorter than usual because you have to do something that you won't usually do so even if you bump into anyone you know, they'll doubt it's really you because there's no way in hell that the former you they know would cut and dye her hair. You get where I'm going with this?"

Justine told me how he wanted it but assured me he’d be okay with whatever he got as long as it wasn’t falling in his eyes anymore. When the time came to make the first cut, I hesitated, suddenly unsure of myself again. I knew it was such a small thing, but I’d suffered from bad haircuts in the past, and I don’t want Justine to hate what he sees whenever he looked in the mirror. Even knowing that it wouldn’t bother him doesn’t make me feel better; I could worry about it enough for the both of us. Finally, I made the first snip, and a lock of Justine’s shaggy light brown hair fell to the bottom of the tub. When I saw that I haven’t screwed up his hair yet, I let out a sigh of relief.

I was so fucking stupid! After a few hours of scrolling, the sun had come up and my eyes burned from the lack of sleep. With a tired sigh, I came down from the bed and walked into the bathroom. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” I muttered to my disheveled reflection. Then as I’d intended since I woke up, I grabbed a pair of scissors from the drawer and cut my waist length hair. I never left it long. It was already straight and limp, why let it become a nuisance?

Going toward the drawers I grab the scissors and start cutting my hair "You think your so fucking special huh" I cry out as I take another strand and cut it off "Well news flash you're not, you're really not you're just sick" I take another strand and cut it off "You're broken" I cut off another strand "You're unlovable" I cut off another strand "You're pathetic" I cut off another strand "And most importantly you're useless ... you're not -you're j-just your- oh my god" I drop the scissors and just sob drop onto floor. Crying I start picking up all the pieces of my hair

I replied. They both looked at each other like this was an amusing game. I can already tell that even though they seem like mean fighting machines they are nothing but jokesters underneath it all. "I was going to cut my hair today, that's what we usually do so that people can tell us apart but, we have crazed elders on the loose so that got put on hold." One replied. A haircut? I could do that. I mean how hard could it be? "How do you usually cut it?" I asked. "I usually buzz cut the sides but leave the top a little longer to style it." He replied. Now that I look I can see that his hair is shorter than his brothers. "Okay, let's do it then." I replied smiling. His smile dropped from his fac