My Dad remarried when I was 5 years old and his new wife was evil. Rachel was manipulative and evil towards me but my Dad was so blinded by love he wouldn’t see or believe the things she would do and say. Rachel’s daughter Harriet is the same age as me and Rachel taught Harriet to be just as nasty as she was.
By the age of 14 the hatred between me and Rachel was so clear even my Dad could no longer ignore it. Me and Rachel would argue constantly and Rachel would always treat Harriet like a princess. I hated her. But my Dad loved her and would always take her side in an argument and tell me that I was a bitch who just caused problems.
One of the main causes of arguments was my hair. I liked my hair long, it flowed in gentle blonde waves down to my waist. Rachel constantly told me I needed a short hair cut that was easy to manage but my hair was fine long – it was healthy and clean, I was always on time, and my school grades were good. One day after school me and Harriet walked in to find our parents having a whispered discussion. When I asked what was going on Rachel told me that the school had sent a letter home explaining there was a headlice outbreak. She then told me that I would be having a haircut to stop a lice infestation. Immediately I asked if Harriet would be having her hair cut too and Rachel laughed and said that she and my father didn’t think it was necessary for Harriet. I began to protest, I really didn’t want my hair cut and I knew that Rachel planned to do it herself because this had been an ongoing threat since I was young. Rachel had threatened to shave my head since I was young. I could only hope that my Dad wouldn’t allow it to get that far.
My Dad told me to sit in the dining room chair, I began to cry and begged him not to let his bitch wife do this. He struck me across the face and told me to never talk about Rachel that way. He then looked at his wife, smiled, and told her to do what she must. Rachel instructed my Dad to bind me to the chair with his belt in case I tried to resist. My Dad did as he was told and I sat strapped to the wooden chair powerless and terrified of the control Rachel now had. I knew whatever awful cut she gave me I would have to go to school like this and endure the teasing from Harriet and her friends.
Rachel left the room for a moment and returned with a pair of scissors and the clippers she used to shave my Dad’s head. I began to sob uncontrollably knowing that my head was about to be shaved to stubble. Harriet was stood in the dining room watching this unfold and I’d never seen her look so gleeful.
Rachel stood behind me and slid the scissors into the base of my pony tail. Snip snip snip, it took a couple of minutes for Rachel to sever the thick golden ponytail. She laughed as she commented on how pretty it was. I could feel short pieces of hair brushing my cheeks and even without a mirror I knew I looked awful. Rachel ruffled my hair a little to humiliate me further and threw my ponytail on the floor. The clippers then turned on mercilessly. Rachel ran them pass over pass across my head. She started at the crown and I choked on my tears as I stared at the short tufts falling. She then mowed the hair off around my ears and this is when the buzzing sound felt deafening. Finally she ploughed the clippers up the back of my head and nape. After 20 minutes the clippers fell silent and I knew I was bald.
My dad removed the belt binding me to the chair and instinctively my hands flew up to my head to assess the damage. Reality hit when I touched my naked scalp and felt the bristly stubble, my head felt like sandpaper and as I looked at the floor to see my discarded crowning glory I sobbed. I ran into my bedroom and locked the door, it was now that I saw myself in the mirror behind the door. I looked awful. The tiny residue of blonde stubble on my head made my scalp look pale and shiny. I cried as I thought about the bullying this would cause at school.
I spent the whole night crying and the next morning Rachel forced me into the car and dropped me off at school. She ensured that I had nothing to cover my head with me and left. That day was the worst day at school I’d ever had, the pupils called me Bald Bella. Rachel and my Dad decided to shave my head weekly until I moved out aged 17. The nickname Bald Bella stuck whilst I was at school and I knew I would never forgive Rachel for this humiliation.