Clara

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I moved to twenty-third Harvey Crestwood avenue on January 3rd of
2009ish.
It was crackpot of chaos in most people’s eyes but if you kept to your own, you’d be fine.
I, however, was situated across the way from a demon of men.
He was burly, fresh out of the clink, and a ducking ass.
That would not fly red flags but what made me furious, he had a daughter and he hit her and her mother almost every night.
Well, I killed him one night.
If it makes you sleep at night, his death was painless.
I thought that was the end of it.
NOPE
The death of that prick caused a power vacuum and thus, the kid’s mom started beating her.
I was credulous, so I reawoke my demon and I…
Alright, I didn’t kill her but I took her kid.
(I’m not a monster)
Well, we were on the run and I explained to her that we had to alter our appearances to blend in.
She did have a history of hair pulling by her abusers so her answer was in support of my plan.
So, I took her to a buddy of mine, let’s call him squarey Pete (Pete for short).
He owed me some favors for a “job” we pulled years back.
(No one died but things were stolen)
Anyway, he was happy to give us cuts and colors.
I decided on becoming a redhead to start.
The dye ducking stung, but the final result was truly a redhead’s.
I was seated in his barber chair and caped.
“So, style?”
“Buzz the sides and trim the top”
He got to work, parting my hair and taking his clippers.
As he used a no.3# guard on me, I saw Clara, her alias, looking out the window now and then.
“Hold still, mate”
I obeyed as he traced my sideburns.
Unparting my hair, he chopped my crown down a few centimeters then permed it.
He undid the cape and I looked totally different.
“I guess you’re up, kiddo”
Clara looked nervous scaling into the chair.
“C-c-cut, please”
“What style, sweetie?”
She looked beguiled so just pointed to me.
“Well, I want her to be unrecognizable to her abuser”
“Bald?”asked Pete.
“Duck no, that’ll make her stand out even more. Think, man”
I snapped my fingers:
“An Auburn bob”
He looked a bit confused.
“I just ran out of the dye, she’ll have to come back tomorrow”
“That’s alright”, I said,”But I don’t want her to go out into the open without a change”.
He got the memo and started cutting Clara’s long, black locks into a bob.
Once the shape was formed, he parted her hair, he trimmed each layer with careful strokes of the stylist razor.
Pete then used a curling iron to make waves in her hair.
“You look cute, kiddo”
She blushed but spoke none (she never spoke after I took her or even before).
When we were at our camper, she thanked me for the cut.
“Listen kid, I will lay life down for any child(you’re no exception)”
She went for a dip that night and I trusted her there on.
It turns out, someone was tracking us and I killed him.
The next day, we went back to Pete’s.
As Clara sat in the chair, she blurted out,”Can I go shorter?”
“How short?”
She breathed,” I want a bowlcut”.
Pete looked at me and I shrugged so Pete caped her and parted her hair.
“How short on the sides, sweetie?”
She looked confident,”All the way”.
I have to give it to her, she has balls of steel.
Well, Pete started buzzing down her sides until skin showed.
He spread the remaining tresses evenly over her head and snipped it.
Cutting done, he brought out the dye and put that stuff into her hair and the end result was fantastic.
He used the iron to curl the ends inward.
With everything done, Clara was released and she looked she was reborn with new self-love and pride.
We also put colored contacts in to seal the deal.
(If you find us, come say hi)

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