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At precisely 6:00 AM, my alarm goes off. I roll out of bed and shut off the ringer. Then I go to the bathroom. I’m all groggy from sleep, but that doesn’t stop me from hopping in the shower. I wash away all all of dirt from yesterday and then start to get dressed. By 7:30, I’m doing my hair and makeup. Sitting at my vanity that I share with my dorm roommate, who is still asleep, I comb through my hair. My blonde locks are down to the small of my back. They are soft and silky, and are my pride and joy. I always get catcalled in the streets for it. It doesn’t hurt that my face is naturally beautiful, with bright blue eyes, a pert nose, high cheekbones, and full lips. I run my fingers through my hair again, savoring the strands runnning against my fingertips. I’ve always kept my hair long, even though I have fetishes for cutting hair. I know my face shape would look terrible with short hair. After a few minutes, I finish my makeup. I throw my hair into a messy bun, artfully arranging it so I look straight out of a Pinterest picture. I go to the kitchen, wolf down an apple, and head to my first class.
I’m in college, getting my undergrad so I can go to med school and become a doctor, which has been my lifelong dream. My first class starts at 8:30, so i hurry along, walking to the bus stop. When the bus finally arrives, I hop on and grab a seat. I check my phone for any messages. When I look up again, I see a guy sitting across from me. He seems my age, and is incredibly good looking. I can’t help but notice how bright his sea glass eyes are, or his jawline, or his hair, which is buzzed short on the sides but long on top. He smirks at me, and I look away, embarrassed to be caught staring.

3 hrs later
“Ugh, that class is so hard,” I complain to my friend kheira after our classes.
“Ikr! I can’t believe we got the worst professor out of the bunch,” she agrees. “It’s like he didn’t even go to school!” I giggle. The coffeshop we are gossiping at is cute, with good snacks, lots of tables, free WiFi, and most importantly, good coffee. Suddenly, Kheira looks at her watch.
“Oh frick, I am going to be late for my next class! I have to go.” She rushedly puts her papers in her bag.
“Aww, okay. I need to finish my coffee and get to work on a paper, anyways,” I sigh in reluctant agreement. “See ya tomorrow?” Kheira nods.
“That is, if my teacher doesn’t flat me alive for being late to class.” I laugh at her joke and wave goodbye to her as she walks out of the door.
Sighing, I open the flap of my backpack, pull out my laptop, and get to work.

An hour later, I’m still sitting there, typing. Suddenly, someone slides into the seat next to me.
“Hey, what’s up?” I hear. I look up from my Mac. It’s the guys from the bus! I immediately turn red again.
“Oh, hey,” I reply with as much confidence as I can muster.
“You go to Darcy, right?” He asks me, naming the city college.
“Yep,” I respond. “You go there too?”
He nods. “Yeah, studying business. Pretty sucky school, am I right?” I laugh a little, and our eyes meet. For a second, something weird flashes in them, but then it’s gone and think I just imagined it. I try to remember what we were talking about. “Oh yeah, my professors suck. I swear to god, they probably don’t know what class they’re teaching.” Now it’s his turn to laugh.
“Hey, I don’t think I got a name,” he says. I smile. I kind of like him, although I would never admit it.
“Umm, Hayley. Hayley Bridge.” He smiles, and his eyes crinkle. He shakes my hand, and I notice the callouses on them.
“Well, Hayley, I’m Lachlan. Nice to meet you.” I smile again.
“Nice to meet you too.”
We talk in the coffe shop for the whole afternoon. By the end, he asks for my number, and, charmed, I give it to him. I walk out of the coffee shop confident I might have a new boyfriend.
2 months and quite a few dates later, Lachlan invites me to a party. I do my hair and makeup, thinking about Lachlan. Although I just met him, he’s lovely. He is smart and funny and kind and always stands up for me. He respects my opinions but isn’t afraid to challenge me. I know it’s too early to say this, but he’s everything I want in a guy. And he looks amazing, too. I smile at myself in the mirror and go to meet Lachlan.

At the frat party, which is hosted by some sophomore, things are great. Lachlan and I are sitting on the couch, chatting and sipping beer. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, which takes forever to find. When I come back, I talk more with Lachlan on the couch. He is closer to me on the couch than when I left, so I figure he moved so our talk would be more intimate. I smile and take a sip of my beer. For some reason, it tastes funny, kind of salty. I shrug and keep drinking. A few hours later, I’m dancing. I’ve hd a lot to drink, and for some reason, everything I drink is tasting funny. I wobble to the kitchen and get some tap water, but I can’t get to the fridge. The world is spinning and spinning, and I can’t make it stop. Suddenly, everything goes black.

When I wake up, it’s light out. I look around at my unfamiliar settings. I quickly realize where I am- Lachlan’s bedroom. I sit up, my head spinning. Somehow, I manage to make my way to his kitchen. He’s sitting there, sipping coffee. When he noticed me, his eyes go up and down my body. looking down, I realized I’m only wearing a big t shirt and my undies. I shrug at Lachlan to show him I don’t care. It doesn’t really concern me what happened last night because I don’t remember any of it. If I did do anything pleasurable with him though, I do wish I could remember and enjoy the memories now. When I look at Lachlan though, he meets my eyes with an obsessive hunger. It’s kind of scary, but I write it off as just being horny. I walk over to him and hug his side, kissing him lightly on the head. Suddenly he jumps up, knocking his chair back. He begins to kiss me, hard and fast and demanding. I let him, holding us still. Since I’m guessing it’s saturday, I know I have an appointment at ten. I try to break free of Lachlan to tell him I have to go, but he still holds on, kissing me. His roaming hands pull me in tighter. “Lachlan, no. I have to go,” I try to say, but he covers my mouth with his hand. I start to get panicky. I don’t want to do this right now. I lift his hands off my waist. He pulls up and looks at me, and for a second, I think he’s going to stop. But then I see the animalistic hunger in his eyes. I sensd his hand a heartbeat before it lands hard against my cheek, the force of his slap knocking my head back. For a second, I’m shocked and don’t move. I try to wiggle out of his touch, but he pulls me closer and pushes us both on the couch. I fight back, but suddenly he’s pushing down on a spot on my neck and it hurts and I know it’s my pressure point from eleventh grade anatomy and I hurts and why is Lachlan doing this and oh god I can’t pass out and I don’t wanna be raped and then everything goes dark.

When I come to, the first thing I notice, before I even open my eyes, is something digging down on my arms and legs. Im seated, on a hard floor, with something right across me. I open my eyes, and the world tilts. I focus on my breathing. In and out. In and out. I open my eyes again. I’m in the bathtub of a small older bathroom. The door is open, and I can see out on the hall that Lachlan is sitting reading something on his phone. I gasp when I see him, upset and confused. He looks up.
“Oh look, sleeping beauty is awake. What a pleasant surprise.” He stares at me and takes me in. I look down and see just my bra and underwear on, with my body all tied together in ropes. I try to squirm free. Why would Lachlan hurt me? I wonder.
“Not gonna work, darlin” Lachlan taunts, stalking toward me. I whimper and cower.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I whisper.
“Oh, we’ll  see about that.” He responds. Lachlan stops in the bathroom. He leans under the sink counter and pulls out some things, but I can’t see what they are. I shake with fear. Is he going to kill me? Rape me? I’m terrified. He turns around again and sets his items on the floor of the bathroom, right next to my spot in the bathtub. I see what he brought. Oh no, I think. Not this. On the floor are a pair of sharp shears and a razor. I shake my head. “No, please, no, Lachlan, I don’t want this. I’ll do anything, you can kiss me, whatever you want, but not my hair! Please, Lachlan.” I start to cry. He smiles fondly at me. “Oh dear, how eager you are to have sex with me. Yes, yes, be patient my love. First, I need to make you beautiful. Because you see, most guys see girls as beautiful when they have gorgeous long hair. But me? Oh no. To me, a girl is beautiful when I have cut all their hair off, when that belongs to me. When their utmost sign of femininity is mine, then they are ad radiant as the sun. Only after you are beautiful will I spoil all you want in the bedroom.” His eyes get far off with want when he says this. I begin to quiver harder. Lachlan grabs my head. He runs his long fingers through my hair and around my face. “So beautiful,” he says. “But you have much more potential.” I wiggle desperately and scream, but I can tell it won’t do me any good. Lachlan says as much. Finally, he grabs some hair ties. He painstakingly divides my hair into four sections. I go limp, knowing there is nothing I can do to fight it. When he is done tugging my thick hair into pigtails, he grabs the shears. I cry harder.
“Oh, darling, you like this, don’t you? Let’s make it even better.” He pulls down a mirror from the counter and props it up in front of me. With my tied arm, I can’t knock it down. I watch in the mirror, sobbing, as Lachlan slowly takes the shears. He positions them right below the pony tail. Then he saws through. I scream in sadness. My hair took so long to grow. I can feel the scissors rubbing against my head. Finally all the tension from the pony tail goes loose. Lachlan leaves one strand holding the entire pony tail. Then holding it up for me to see, he snips it off. I sob again. Lachlan holds a foot long pigtail in his hand and smiles. Cutting off the last eight inches of it, he tickles it in my face amusedly. I can do nothing but cry. Lachlan then cuts off the next three pigtails
. The shears are so cold against my scalp, and they hurt, because Lachlan is pressing them down hard. I sob and hiccup the entire time. When Lucas is done, I expect him to stop. But no. He grabs a comb and combs my hair down in my normal part. It looks terrible, with my hair about eye length. Lachlan laughs. “Still not perfect. You know what’s next, Hayley. Oh yes, you sure do.” He grins. Then he grabs the clippers. I’ve never used one before, but I’ve had enough boyfriends to know that with this, I’ll have no hair. Lachlan grips my head. He flips the clippers in his hand into position. Then, making sure I can see, he sets them on my head. The clippers are cold and loud. I feel them graze up my head, grabbing and pulling hair. My scalp tingles involuntarily with the touch. In the mirror, I watch Lachlan pause and lift the clippers up. He hold the mirror up to my head. I see a thick line down the middle of my head. There’s no hair in the line. It’s just fuzz. The razor has shaved everything off. I scream louder than I ever have. Lachlan touches the shaved spot and sighs. “Delightful,” he moans. Then he grips my head again, tight and rigid. The he runs the clippers against my head again. I feel inchlong strands of my hair float down around me. I can’t believe my hair is gone. That strand has probably been on my head for ages. And just like that, it was shaved off. Lachlan continues to shave my head. I work into a haze, watching the remnants of my pigtails flutter about like butterflies. All I can feel is the razor sharp feel of the blades and Lachlan’s hand. I pretend I’m watching this through someone else’s point of view. It’s a dream, I tell myself. I let myself get slightly turned on by the clippers and Lachlan. It disgusts me that my boy could react this way, but I let myself, because otherwise, it’s pure hell. Finally, Lachlan finishes. He shows me in the mirror. I look at my hollow reflection, lacking any vibrancy without my hair. My hair is buzzed all the way around, with no parts down to my eyes anymore. That seems like a luxury now, to have hair as long as a few inches. I watch gauntly as Lachlan palms another razor, which is smaller and looks sharper. He grips it and works hard and fast, making quick work of my hair. When I look again, all that’s left is a fine peachy layer. One silent tear drips down my face. I’m not even pretty anymore, without my hair. It was a big part of me. Lachlan sweeps the top of my head off, and then dusts my shoulders. Little flecks of hair drift down. Lachlan leans down and presses a kiss to my head. He feels my head again. “So soft,” he murmurs. I shiver. “That’s right,” he whispers. “Lachlan just made you pretty, okay? No more hair to weigh you down, only a soft buzz cut. See? Our eyes meet in the mirror, and although I know there is misguided love in his eyes, the only thing in my eyes is fiery, burning, rage.

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