Laura – The Beginning

Laura – The Beginning

 

(Some of you already know Laura from the stories of Selina and Laura)

 

Laura is 17 years old and lives with her mother.

Her biological father took off shortly after she was born.

Money was always tight for them.

A visit to the hairdresser is far beyond their means.

Her mother, Martha, has thick brown hair that reaches her shoulders and is usually tied back in a ponytail.

Laura’s straight blonde hair falls to her chest. She prefers to wear it loose.

 

When she comes home, she sees her mother sitting at the kitchen table with sad eyes. There is a letter in front of her. She slides the letter over to Laura.

“Our landlady is announcing another rent increase.

We can’t afford that anymore.”

Laura comforts her. “Oh, Mom, we can manage it. I’ll look for a job in the afternoon or evening.” “But you need to study.”

“I can handle it. Let’s just give it a try.”

 

At school, there is a notice board where part-time jobs for students are posted. Laura looks through the few slips of paper.

Melly, from the class next door, is standing beside her.

“Found anything yet?” Melly asks, taking a slip off the board.

As she does, she tosses her long black hair over her shoulder.

“Here, at the library. They pay $10 an hour.”

“The library? With Miss Worsley? That dragon? Good luck with that.”

“What did you find?” Laura asks.

“A hair salon. They’re looking for someone at the front desk to handle the phones and tidy up.” “A hair salon? With your long hair—I’d be careful there. What do they pay?” “Only $8, unfortunately. But it definitely smells better than that dusty library. And as for my hair, I’ll just tie it up in a bun.”

“Well, good luck then.” “You too.”

 

Laura enters the library. Miss Worsley suddenly emerges from between the shelves. Miss Worsley is in her mid-fifties, very tall and slender.

She wears large glasses, and her black hair is pulled back severely and pinned up in a bun.

“What do you want?” she asks brusquely, causing Laura to recoil.

“I’m here about the part-time job,” Laura says cautiously, holding out the slip of paper. She gives Laura a quick once-over.

“Tomorrow at 2:00 p.m. Not a minute later!”

 

On her way home, Laura does the math. “2 p.m. to 6 p.m.—that’s four hours a day. That comes to $40!” She happily tells her mother about it.

On the first day, she receives instructions on how to handle the lending process.

Scan the library card, then scan the books.

“There’s a security tag on the back cover. If someone leaves the library with a book without scanning it, a whistling sound goes off.

Then you have to go after them immediately!”

On the second day, she is shown the system used to shelve the books.

She receives a WhatsApp message from Melly.

“Look what they did to me.”

A selfie of Melly. She has bangs, cut straight across her forehead and extending to her temples. Her long black hair is cut straight across at shoulder blade level.

“I like it. It really suits you.” “Are you kidding me?”

“No, really. You look so much better.”

 

Day 3: She gets a lecture from Miss Worsley for shelving a book incorrectly.

“I wouldn’t be able to see a thing with hair that long, either!”

WhatsApp from Melly: “It was exciting today.

A customer had her long hair cut off.” “And? How did she look?”

“A sporty short cut. It actually really suited her. You wouldn’t believe the mountain of hair I swept up afterwards.”

 

Miss Worsley finds fault with something every day. A book isn’t sitting neatly on the shelf, you need to clean up here, you’re leaving a total mess! It is frustrating, in a way. But Laura has to hang in there.

 

Then came the worst-case scenario.

Laura was in the restroom brushing her hair when Miss Worsley stormed in.

“Didn’t you hear the whistle? What are you doing here?”

“I was just quickly…” “I can see that! And in the meantime, a valuable illustrated book has been stolen. I ought to fire you on the spot!”

“But Miss Worsley, I really need this job. Please!”

Miss Worsley considered this, then smiled nastily.

“All right. One more chance.” “Thank you, Miss Worsley.”

“But only on one condition.” She grabs a strand of Laura’s long hair.

“That comes off by tomorrow! And at least up to here.”

As she says this, she points to the level of her mouth. Laura turns pale.

A very old woman with a cane comes out of a restroom.

She looks at the two of them and simply shakes her head.

 

In desperation, she writes to Melly. “What should I do?”

“Go to the hairdresser.” “How much does it cost?” “Around $250 here.”

“I can’t afford that.”

“I’m coming over this evening with Marc, one of our hairdressers.”

“And what does he charge?”

“Hopefully nothing, if he gets to keep your braid. I’ll have a word with him.”

In the evening, four people are standing in the kitchen:

Laura, with a freshly braided plait; her mother Martha, with her hair loose; Melli and a young man.

He examines Laura’s braid. “I’d do it for $100.”

“And if you got to keep the braid?” asks Melly.

“$50.” “Marc, that’s still too much.”

Marc looks at Martha, who is just tucking a thick strand of hair behind her ear.

“I need a hair-cutting model to practice on tomorrow afternoon.”

He keeps looking at Martha as he says this.

After a moment’s hesitation, Martha nods.

“Don’t worry, I’m only planning a bob,” he says reassuringly.

 

The first thing Marc does is cut off Laura’s ponytail with the scissors.

The first tears are falling.

When he is finished, Laura has a center part, and her blonde hair is cut straight across all the way around, just below her ears.

“I should cut you some bangs; otherwise, your hair keeps falling into your face.” Laura nods sadly.

“See you at the salon tomorrow at 4:00 p.m.,”

he says to Laura’s mother as he leaves.

 

Even so, Laura gets a dressing-down from Miss Worsley in the library.

“It should have been even shorter!”

Laura sees the old woman from the day before sneaking through the shelves again. Once more, the woman simply shakes her head.

Laura watches as she disappears at the very back, by the last shelf.

She follows her and sees the old woman take a book from her bag and place it on the shelf. The old woman looks at Laura and smiles before vanishing just as she had appeared.

Laura pulls the book from the shelf. *The Secret Hypnosis*.

She opens it and marvels. “For Laura,” it says on the first page.

Laura turns to the last page. No library stamp. She slips it into her bag.

The old woman peeks around the corner and smiles.

Laura checks her watch.

“Mom is probably at the hairdresser’s by now. I hope everything goes well.”

 

When she gets home, her mother isn’t there yet.

A quarter of an hour later, she hears the front door.

What she sees makes her start.

Her mother rushes past her and disappears into her bedroom.

Laura knocks. “No! No one can see me like this.”

“Mom, let me in. Please.”

Martha opens the door. Her mother stands before her, sobbing.

Ultra-short bangs; her hair covers only half of her ears now.

Martha turns around.

The back of her head is shaved bald almost all the way to the top.

“What did Marc do to you?” Laura asks, horrified.

“It’s not his fault. His boss demanded it.”

The doorbell rings. Marc is standing at the door with a small bouquet of flowers.

“I wanted to apologize to your mother.” “Come in.”

They are sitting in the kitchen. “My boss, Miss Sarah, thinks she’s very creative and often comes up with truly outrageous hairstyles. She always takes before-and-after photos of them. I brought a few along to show you that you aren’t the only ones.”

Laura looks at the photos. “It’s awful, the way she butchers those women’s hair.”

 

In the evening, Laura starts reading the book in bed. She cannot stop reading.

Over the next few days, she reads it again and again, hardly able to believe what she is reading: moving the fingers of her right hand while simultaneously moving those of her left.

Laura tries, but it doesn’t work.

The old woman reappears in the library. She sneaks past Laura and mutters something. “I beg your pardon?” Laura asks politely, leaning down toward her.

“Practice, practice, practice.”

“But I’ve been doing that for days, and it’s just not working.”

“Show me your hands.” She runs her fingers over Laura’s.

“Try it again.”

Sure enough, she is making progress now and continues to practice.

 

Try it out yourself. But set an alarm for an hour.

Laura stands in front of a mirror in the hallway.

She practices the finger movements ten times—over and over again.

Suddenly, she stands motionless in front of the mirror.

The alarm rings, and Laura moves again. She checks the time.

She must have been gone for half an hour. No memory of it.

 

The next chapter deals with the creation of images. Drawings are the most effective; “Photographs work too, if you write the person’s name on the back in blood ink,” someone has noted by hand on the page.

The next day, she secretly takes several photos of Miss Worsley.

 

The third chapter describes how to issue a command.

Write your command by hand on black paper using blood ink.

“What is blood ink?”

It takes two weeks for the old woman to appear in the library again.

“Well, my child, are you making progress?” Laura nods.

“But what is blood ink?”

“Your blood! Get a syringe and draw it.

And remember: a woman’s blood works only on women.”

 

Laura enters a pharmacy. “Look, I caught my finger in something.”

She holds her outstretched index finger right in front of the pharmacist’s eyes and moves it back and forth, while her other fingers also move in a well-practiced rhythm.

“I’d like five syringes for drawing blood.”

“Certainly.” The pharmacist searches through a drawer and places the syringes and needles on the counter.

 

Now comes the hardest part.

Sticking the needle into her own vein.

That went more easily than expected.

Laura draws a syringe full of blood and transfers it into a small glass vial she has ready.

“Who should I do my first test with? Mom? No, I couldn’t do that.

Melli? What did she say the other day? She’d like to have sex with Marc but doesn’t dare bring it up.” Laura grins.

 

On Sunday afternoon, she texts Melly to say she’s dropping by briefly for a coffee. “Better not. Marc is coming over later.”

“If he shows up, I’ll leave immediately. I promise.”

Laura prints out a photo of Melly and places a sheet of black paper on her desk. She takes her “inkwell” and an old dip pen, then writes Melly’s full name on the back of the photo. Next, she writes her wish on the black paper—which isn’t easy, since you can’t see what you’re writing. And now, off to see Melly!

Everything is going according to plan, and Laura says goodbye to Melly when Marc arrives.

She quickly slips the picture and the black paper into her bag and leaves the apartment. About an hour later, she dials Melly’s number and lets it ring once.

On Monday, a WhatsApp message: “I did it.” Accompanied by a smiley face.

 

“Who’s next?

Miss Worsley?

Marc’s boss, Miss Sarah?

Her landlady, Mrs. Thornten—the one who started it all?”

Laura thinks aloud.

“Miss Worsley! I can start with her.

I need more information on the other two.”

 

The image is quickly finished and shows a version of Miss Worsley altered with the help of AI. The text proves more difficult. She writes it out in pencil on ordinary paper first and makes several corrections.

Then everything is just right!

 

As expected, she meets Miss Worsley at the shopping mall on Wednesday after work. Laura intercepts her in front of the hair salon.

“Oh, Miss Worsley, what a coincidence.

I was just about to get my hair cut here.”

“Here? At this hairdresser’s? Where everyone can watch?”

“Ouch! Something just pricked my finger. Could you take a look at it?

Maybe the stinger is still in there.”

Laura holds her outstretched index finger right in front of Miss Worsley’s face.

Miss Worsley looks at the photo and stares at the black paper.

Laura takes the photo and the paper back from her.

Miss Worsley heads straight for the hair salon and chooses a seat right by the window facing the passageway.

Laura finds an empty table with a prime view at the café across the way.

A young woman fastens a white cape around Miss Worsley, lets down her shoulder-length hair, and brushes it out.

She leans down toward Miss Worsley and appears to ask something.

Startled, she straightens up again and looks around uncertainly.

Two colleagues are called over. They, too, lean down toward Miss Worsley.

One shrugs and takes the brush from the young hairdresser.

He vigorously brushes her black hair back and picks up the scissors.

He cuts off the longer, loose hair at the nape of her neck. He parts her hair to the side and runs the brush through it once more.

Now he takes the clippers from the shelf and removes the attachment, revealing the bare cutting blade.

Miss Worsley’s head is pushed slightly forward, and her hair—still chin-length—hangs down over her face.

He places the clippers at the front of her hairline.

The black hair falls onto the cape like a waterfall.

Laura sips her coffee and grins.

Many people walk by, stop, and shake their heads.

Gel is rubbed into Miss Worsley’s shorn head.

The blade of a straight razor flashes briefly in the light.

 

As Miss Worsley leaves the salon, a small alarm goes off in Laura’s pocket. Miss Worsley looks around; she seems not to notice anything and walks on. Then, she clutches at her hair. She does it again, with both hands.

A scream! Security rushes over to her immediately.

There is nothing to be done; several staff members and customers bear witness to Miss Worsley’s desire to have her head shaved bald.

For months, Miss Worsley is seen walking around wearing nothing but a large headscarf.

 

Back home, Laura crosses Miss Worsley off her list.

That Miss Sarah—Marc’s boss—wouldn’t it be nice if she let Marc shave her at his own salon?

And the landlady, Mrs. Thornten? With that mane of red curls?

“I’d really like to do it myself.”

 

Laura smiles mischievously.