Harvest of Hair: Part 2 (Laura)

*This is a recent commission where I was asked to write a series of short stories (no more than 10 pages before photos) about a group of women TRYING to save their hair. Many will fail to do so. Some will succeed. Read on to find out who walks away with their hair intact*

LAURA

I trotted down Main Street, regularly glancing over my shoulder to see if anyone was following me as my long, shining blond hair fluttered behind me with each step in the breeze. I didn’t see anyone, but the Stalkers were supposed to be amazing at their job, and chances were you wouldn’t see them unless they wanted you to. I looked down at my watch and saw it read 1:30, cursing under my breath when I realized it was another 30 minutes until I could relocate to another part of the city.

I looked up and down the street at the stores, looking for somewhere I could lay low. I had the feeling that I was vulnerable out in the open, like maybe my stalker had me in his sights, so I needed to go in somewhere and lay low in the hoped that they would pass, then I could move in the other direction, hop in a taxi, and relocate. I turned the corner and rushed up two doors, then ducked into whatever store was there. I looked around and saw that I was in a very nice, rowdy bar, a perfect place to hopefully lay low, so I smoothed out my black silk dress and made my way to the bar.

As I made my way to the bar to order a drink and pass the time, my bangs fell into my eyeline, so I blew them out of my eyes with a well-practiced puff of air. My bangs were overgrown and badly in need of a trim, and I had debated pinning them back for today’s hunt, but had decided against it. If today was going to be my last day with my hair, then I wanted to wear my bangs loose and beautiful in all their thick, fluffy glory.

I sat at the bar and ordered a White Russian, and as I waited for my drink I caught glimpse of myself in the mirror. I still looked good for 40, DAMN good in fact. I was short at 5’4”, with comparatively long, smooth legs, a round, cheerful face well accustomed to wearing a smile, brilliant blue eyes, a great, well-maintained body, and healthy, still-perky size-C breasts. Right now my body looked good adorned in a form-fitting black silk dress with a turtleneck collar.

I reached into my purse and pulled out a black brush, then began running it through my hair as I looked around nervously. I considered myself attractive, but my hair was clearly my best feature. Most of my young life, I had worn it in a chin-length bob, but when I went back to school to get my degree at 28, I had decided to grow it out… and grow it out LONG!

So now here I was, a 40-year old woman with gorgeous, shining blond hair that spilled down past my back, past my waist, and past my hips like a golden waterfall of the softest golden silk, the tips resting about halfway down the tender bulge of my big but well-defined and firm butt. It was gorgeous… so much so that I couldn’t understand how someone could want to take it away from me.

As I put away my brush I gently shook out my hair, making it to fly around my head like a storm of golden silk and causing several men’s heads to turn in my direction without fail. I didn’t want to lose my hair… I LOVED my hair, but the odds were against me. Even my dear friend Katie had done everything right, and had still lost her beautiful, soft, shining brown waves to the stalker.

I looked at my watch and saw it only 1:37, and as I looked around the bar nervously for anyone out of place, I wondered if the stalkers enjoyed doing what they did, or more specifically, what the one following me was doing.

JOHN

“Woooooooow,” I said as I made my way subtly into the bar where my prey was sitting, “now THAT is one amazing head of hair.”

I had deprived a lot of women of their hair over the years, and been paid handsomely to do it. I had been hesitant at first when I heard of the assignment and how bizarre it was, but when I found out that the women were well-paid for it and willing participants, I was more on board, especially when they offered me 25,000 dollars for every target I managed to take down.

I’d been doing this for the last 15 years of my life, and I had denuded a lot of women’s heads. The first couple had been thrilling and exciting, but since then the manes had been rather unexceptional. There were the occasional heads of hair that stood out from the rest, like two years ago I had to track a young woman named Katie with a gorgeous head of shining, thick brown waves that seemed to dance in the wind and bounced playfully with every step. That had been a particularly tough head of hair to destroy, but I had done it, and I still remembered the way her hair had fluttered around her head as she held up her hands on the subway to try and stop my dart, to no avail. I really hoped she had grown her hair back out since then, it was far too remarkable to not grow back. That had been a head of hair to remember, but last year had been nothing special, just a chin-length bob.

It certainly took a lot for someone’s hair to amaze me these days, but the mane of the woman I was stalking this year, Laura Connors, age 40, managed to do just that. As I saw her sitting at the bar I was utterly entranced by the long, shining fall of golden hair that tumbled down her back in a gorgeous spill of living silk, seeming to flutter and glisten with a life of its own with every tiny movement of her head. Her long fall of hair was juxtaposed perfectly by thick bangs that completely covered her forehead. For the first time in… I didn’t know how long, I found myself wondering how it would feel to brush those thick, fluffy bangs back from her head as we made passionate love, to dig my hands into that lush jungle of silk as we wrapped ourselves around each other. I watched her sip her drink and felt my heart lurch at the way that long, golden-blond silk would gently swing in front of her face when she took a drink, framing her face perfectly.

I had to get a closer look, if nothing else, then just to sate my curiosity. I made my way over to where she was sitting, subtly pushing my way through the crowd and glancing around like I was looking for someone. As I got close to her I glanced at her hair, and I was still enamored with its sheen and thickness. She was sitting in a way where her hair hung around her face, obscuring it, it was clear that she was trying to hide from someone, and I knew that someone was me. I sat down next to her and ordered a drink, then did something I had never done to a target before.

I spoke to her.

“Your hair is gorgeous,” I blurted out loud, and immediately regretted doing so as she turned to face me with wide, surprised, but bemused eyes, “sorry, that was awkward, I just… um… I used to be a hairdresser and I feel randomly compelled to compliment amazing hair.”

She chuckled lightly as she put down her drink, relieving my tension immediately.

“Well thank you,” she said as she glanced at me with an appreciative smile, “I hear that a lot, but not usually from someone as clearly refined as yourself.”

I smiled to myself as she looked me up and down, and then (with some obvious hesitation), she asked an odd question.

“But… you like it?” she asked, somewhat nervously, “you REALLY like it?”

“Of course, it’s amazing,” I replied honestly, “hair like that is one in a million.”

“Well I’m glad you do,” she said with a loud, sad sigh, “I really needed to hear that right now, and I appreciate it.”

There were a few moments of awkward silence where we took sips of our drinks, then she turned to face me again.

“Weird question, but… do you want to feel it?” she asked, and this time it was my turn to look at her with surprised eyes.

“Um… absolutely,” I said earnestly, “but… would that be weird?”

“Any other day, maybe,” she said honestly, reaching up and running her own fingers through her hair, “but today, I just really need someone to appreciate it the way it deserves to be appreciated. I can’t explain, but you may be the last person to ever feel my hair.”

“Oh wow,” I said, feigning surprise, “not sure why you would want to cut off hair like this, but let me see here.”

She smiled sadly as I reached up and lightly stroked the top of her head clumsily like a pet, my fingers reveling in the warm and soft feeling of that magnificent mane.

“You like it?” she asked quietly, still looking me in the eyes with that wan smile.

“Most definitely,” I said, still running my fingers through that golden, living silk, and then slowly, delicately, I’ve never felt anything so soft in my life.

“I’m very happy you can appreciate it,” she said as she took another sip of her drink, then stood up and made her way behind me, “excuse me for a second, I need to use the restroom.”

I nodded and watched her walk towards the restroom, her shining curtain of golden hair swaying back and forth like a waterfall of soft, shimmering silk. I sighed and reached into my pocket, pulling out the dart gun. Her hair was nothing short of remarkable, the chance I had to fell it had confirmed that, but 25,000 dollars was 25,000 dollars, and I could REALLY use a new truck. As I reflected, I realized that several minutes had passed, so I looked to the bathroom and was surprised to see someone else entering it, she had left already!

I looked outside and saw Laura, now in a green silk dress, getting into a cab. I grabbed my dart gun and rushed after her, but it was a losing battle. She had gotten away… for now.

LAURA

It was 3:57, time to relocate again and throw my pursuer off my tracks for another cycle. I walked down the street, now wearing a cute little silk floral sundress I had changed into back at the bar. I had 2 more outfits ready to go, and I would change into them at 6 and 10 respectively when I relocated at those times.

I waved down a taxi, feeling my long, golden hair softly caressing my shoulders as I did so, the silky feeling of my hair was very re-assuring in this incredibly stressful time. After college I had worked for years at growing it out from my chin to this length, spending a great deal of money and time caring for it to make it into the flowing, magnificent fall of hair that it was right now.

This length was meant to be temporary, but once it had gotten this long I had fallen in love with it, and decided to keep it at this length. My bangs, which had been a large and stressful undertaking to get them just right, were now a beloved part of my style, and I thought they complimented my silky long hair perfectly. My hair had come to mean a lot to me over the years, it had become my security blanket, something that I loved that made me feel good about myself, and I loved each and every strand of it.

A taxi was pulling up to pick me up, and I let out a sigh of relief. But then I felt a strange tension blossoming in my stomach, a prickling sensation that something horrible was about to happen.

JOHN

I spotted Laura waving down a Taxi and I made my way towards her, dart gun in my hand. I always waited for them when they were about to relocate, it meant they had to stay in place for a moment and they were at their most vulnerable.

As I got close to her I raised my dart gun at my hip and took aim, but right as I was about to pull the trigger I saw her turn her head to look around, almost like she was aware of the serious danger her hair was now in. In that moment I saw her hair fly around her head like a storm, glistening in the sunlight and looking more radiant than I could have imagined… and I paused.

I couldn’t do it. Something about that hair… it was beyond magnificent, and I couldn’t bring myself to destroy it. I began to lower my dart gun…

When suddenly someone bumped into my arm, causing me to accidentally squeeze the trigger. I heard the “THWIP” of the gun quietly going off, and a second later I heard a distant “Ow!” in a very familiar voice. I looked up in horror, and sure enough, there was Laura reaching down and pulling something our of her ankle. As she stood up, her glorious, glistening hair shimmering in the sunlight, I saw her eyes go wide at the sight of the dart she was holding.

I turned and moved into the crowd, disappearing into it as I moved away from her.

“Oh shit,” I said quietly under my breath, “what have I done?”

LAURA

My shaking fingers dropped the dart, and I heard it hit the ground with a small “CLINK” before vanishing under bystander’s feet. My hands were shaking in terror at what just happened, I’d been hit! My hair, which was now fluttering lightly in the breeze, was doomed!

“Miss?” I heard someone call to me, and I turned to look at them, “are you OK? You just went pale.”

“Oh, yes, sorry,” I said, trying to keep it together as I felt a strange, itching sensation begin blossoming over my head, “I just… I just remembered I needed to be somewhere.”

I took off towards the alley between two shops, desperate to get away from people before my hair fell out, and quickly running out of time to do so!

“Shit, shit, shit!” I said as I worked my way through the alley, nearly weeping at what I knew was coming, “my hair… my beautiful hair…”

A few seconds later I was behind the shop near a parking lot, no one near me, and a good thing too. The itching in my head had quickly subsided, and a dull tingling sensation had taken its place, my hair was quickly running out of time.

“Dammit, what do I do?” I asked no one in particular as I paced, knowing that I was losing precious seconds with my hair, “god dammit, why did I have to get drawn? I love my hair!”

But what was done was done, and I had to figure out the best way to spend my final moments with my magnificent mane. I turned and saw my reflection in the window of a parked car, and with a sad smile I just reached up with my hand and flattened it against my hair to smooth it the best I could. I relished in the feel of my golden silk one last time, then, when my hair looked as good as I could make it, I dropped my hands to my side and resigned myself to my fate as I watched in the mirror.

As I watched, waiting for the inevitable, my face full of apprehension and terror, I just marveled at how wonderfully my hair complimented me, how beautifully it framed my face with its golden sheen, how perfectly my bangs covered my forehead and silhouetted my head. It was beautiful, and I was going to miss it so much. I admired my hair in the mirror with dread at apprehension, trying to cherish my final, fleeting moments with it.

And then it happened.

One second my head was covered in a thick, beautiful mass of golden silk, and then… out of nowhere… I saw it all flutter slightly, and then begin to slide down my head like water off a ducks back. I saw my forehead appear out of nowhere as my bangs vanished almost instantly, and I saw my mounds of lush blond hair fall to the floor with a small whisper of moving silk.

The whole process took less than 2 seconds, and then it was over.

I looked at the bald, hairless woman in the reflection, shocked at what I was seeing. Without my hair I looked like a goblin, no more long, silken locks to cover my large ears or round head.

And yet… there was something pleasant about the look. I reached up to feel my smooth head, and impossibly, I chuckled. The feeling was like nothing I had felt before. Soft and almost rubbery, like a baby’s skin, which made sense because the last time this hair had been exposed, I was still a newborn.

I sighed loudly and wondered what I would do now, how I would walk in public looking like this, and most importantly… what styles I would try as I tried to regrow my magnificent, lost hair.

NEARLY 2 YEARS LATER

“This… isn’t bad,” I said as I looked ay my new haircut in the mirror, “it’s actually a lot better than I expected.”

“I certainly think so,” my friend Katie said from my kitchen table, “it looks good on you, really.”

I looked to my friend and smiled. She was visiting me because of a conference she had to attend for work about an hour away. Her own beautiful, thick curls had finally grown out to her bra-strap like she had worked so hard for, and were as bouncy and soft as ever.

As for me, I had grown my hair out over the last 12 months into a thick, chin-length bob that framed my face quite well like it had in college, where I had met Katie. I had passed on restoring my thick bangs… for now. When my hair was a little longer, I may change that. The style was nowhere near the glorious blanket of golden silk that had been my former mane, but it was getting there, and in a few more years I knew I would be reunited with my lost lock like Katie had.

“So where do you want to eat tonight?” Katie asked as I finished playing with my new style.

“Oh my God, I forgot to tell you, there’s this amazing new sushi place down the road that just opened, sound good?” I asked.

“Sounds AMAZING, it’s only 5:30, we still need to kill some time before we…” but she was interrupted as there was a ring at the doorbell and she turned to face it, her playful, bouncing curls dancing around her head with the movement, “you expecting anyone?”

“No?” I said with uncertainty, then opened my Ring app on my phone. I was met by the sight of a lovely young woman with brown eyes and masses of silky brown hair smiling nervously into the camera. As I watch, she reached up to her forehead and tucked a long, loose strand of her gorgeous hair behind her ear.

I made my way to door and opened it up, startling the young lady in the process, who let out a loud yip of surprise.

“Um… hi!” she said awkwardly as she reached up and began running her fingers nervously through her thick, shiny hair, “are you… are you Laura Connors?”

“I am,” I said apprehensively, “and you are?”

“I’m sorry, I know this is awkward,” the young girl said, still stroking her hair, “but my name is Samantha Rigdin.”

She pulled her hands out of her hair and offered on to me to shake, I took it, still confused about what was going on.

“Um… nice to meet you Shannon,” I replied skeptically as I felt Katie come up behind me, “can I help you with something?”

“I really hope so,” she said s she went back to running her fingers through her hair nervously, “it’s just that… I think you and I belong to the same… agreement? I don’t know what else to call it, but I need all the help I can get.”

My eyes went wide and I heard Katie gasp behind me.

“The Harvest,” I said quietly, “you’re part of the Harvest.”

The girl gulped audibly and nodded.

“Yes, and my number was pulled this year,” she reached behind her head with both hands and grabbed two massive fistfuls of lush, silky hair, clutching them tightly in her hands behind her head like she was trying to protect them.

“I love my hair, it means the absolute world to me, and I’d be lost without it,” the girl said sounding close to tears as she looked down at the mounds of hair in her lap, “but if you can’t help me, I’m going be bald in less than 12 days.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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