‘Mum, I don’t want you to cut my hair,’ Shelly said
‘It’s just your fringe, besides it is getting into your eyes.’
‘They call me bowl cut head at school, and you always cut it way too short. It takes ages to grow out. Please mum, I’ve got some money saved, and I’m going to the hairdresser.’
She ran out of the house before her mum could say any more. Down at the hairdressers, she was ready for a change of style. Thirteen now, she was ready to cut her long hair short. It would be much easier to look after, and she would be the same as everyone else.
‘What do you want?’
Looking at the picture, above her on the wall, there was a style, which didn’t even have a fringe. Just above the shoulder, it would make her grown up. ‘That one.’
‘Are you sure, it will be quite a change.’
‘Yes please, I want it to be shorter.’
As the hair fell to the ground, it was weird not having it long enough to put in ponytail or plats. It was smart though, and when she went to school, she would blend in with the others.