Theobald
Jim slumped into his chair, exhausted after another gruelling day at work. His patience was wearing thin, and his frustration bubbled over as he muttered, “Ellie’s out again. Every afternoon it’s the same. I come home to reheated food or hamburgers, and all I hear about is how vital her hen parties are. And next week? A hair care and makeover meeting, of all things!”
JK smirked knowingly. “You know, I had a similar problem with Kate and her endless meetings.”
Jim raised an eyebrow. “What did you do about it?”
JK chuckled darkly. “Well… I may have threatened to cut her hair off.”
Jim blinked, startled. “And? How did that go?”
“Not well,” JK admitted, grinning despite himself. “It ended in a bit of a scuffle. She was screaming and shouting while I—well, I actually did it. Snipped off a piece of her hair.”
Jim burst out laughing. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. She was furious, obviously. After the chaos settled, I had to fix it. Trimmed her hair into a blunt bob to even it out.” JK shrugged. “But hey, it blew over eventually.”
Jim shook his head in disbelief. “That’s wild.”
“I’ll tell you what,” JK said, his grin widening. “I’ll lend you my clippers. If Ellie doesn’t start pulling her weight around the house, threaten her with a No. 2 buzz cut. Bet that’ll get her attention.”
Jim snorted. “That might actually work. She’s supposed to model for this hair thing because of her long hair. A buzz cut would ruin that in a second.”
The two men roared with laughter at the thought. When Jim dropped JK off at home, JK dashed inside and returned with the clippers. “Here you go,” he said, handing them over with a mischievous wink.
Jim pocketed them, chuckling to himself. “Let’s see how this plays out.”
The argument Jim had envisioned unfolded exactly as he’d feared. Ellie brought up her upcoming week, saying she’d be out late every night due to her hair care event.
“And what about me?” Jim snapped. “What am I supposed to do for food?”
“I’ll prepare meals the day before,” Ellie replied flatly. “You can reheat them.”
Jim’s temper flared. “That’s not good enough! You need to spend more time here, at home, instead of running around with all these ridiculous commitments!”
Ellie squared her shoulders, meeting his anger head-on. “I need to be at these events, Jim. There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“I need you at home!” he shouted.
“And I’m needed at these functions. So there!” Ellie shot back, her tone sharp and unwavering.
Jim clenched his fists. “Fine. Let’s see how well you’re received at your fancy events when you’re sporting a buzz cut.”
Ellie froze, her eyes narrowing. “You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed.
Without a word, Jim strode toward the bathroom, retrieving the clippers. He attached the No. 2 guard and returned, holding them up with an air of grim determination.
“Put those down,” Ellie warned, her voice low and dangerous.
But Jim was undeterred. Ellie lunged at him, trying to grab the clippers, but Jim sidestepped her charge. She stumbled, momentarily off balance. Before she could recover, Jim seized a handful of her long hair and turned on the clippers.
Ellie shrieked and fought, thrashing wildly as the buzzing machine sheared through her hair. A chunk fell to the floor. Panicking, Ellie lashed out again, catching his arm. The attachment snapped off, clattering to the ground.
In the ensuing chaos, Jim lost control of the clippers momentarily, but as Ellie tried to grab them from his hand, the bare blade slid across her scalp. The room fell silent, save for the hum of the clippers, as a stark bald strip became visible on Ellie’s head.
Both froze, staring at the swath of bare skin. Ellie’s chest heaved with a mix of anger and shock. Jim, suddenly aware of what he had done, took a step back, dropping the clippers.
As Ellie realized what was happening, something inside her snapped. Her fury boiled over, and she lashed out instinctively. Her hand swiped through the air like a claw, catching Jim’s chest. Her nails tore through his shirt and scored deep enough to draw blood.
Jim gasped, his anger flaring into something primal. The pain only fueled his rage. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her upright. Her toes barely touched the floor as she struggled against his grip, but Jim was beyond reasoning now.
With his free hand, he drove the clippers mercilessly through her hair. The buzzing blades sliced through strand after strand, falling to the floor in uneven chunks. Ellie’s cries of protest faded as the clippers moved relentlessly over her scalp, stripping away the long locks she had cherished for so many years. Jim held her aloft, determined, the tension in the room suffocating.
Finally, the clippers fell silent. Jim stared at his left hand, now holding the entirety of her hair—a lifeless mass of golden strands, no longer part of her identity. He let the hair drop to the ground like a trophy, his chest heaving as he looked at what he had done.
Ellie collapsed in a heap, trembling with shock and disbelief. She ran her hands over her head, her fingers meeting bare skin and jagged patches of stubble. Her reflection in the nearby mirror caught her attention, and her breath hitched in her throat as she took in the unfamiliar, brutal image staring back at her.
Jim stood frozen, his adrenaline draining, leaving behind the enormity of what he had done. The room fell into silence, save for the faint hum of the clippers, still trembling in his hand.
Ellie didn’t look at him. She curled into herself, her sobs quiet but heart-wrenching. Jim opened his mouth to speak but found no words that could bridge the chasm that now yawned between them.
Jim sat in his car for a moment, his mind racing. Years of pent-up resentment churned within him—the verbal jabs, the mental manipulation, and even the occasional physical confrontations. Tonight, he had finally snapped, and though he felt a grim sense of vindication, the weight of his actions pressed heavily on him.
Shaking off the thoughts, he drove to JK’s house. When JK opened the door and saw Jim’s expression, he raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, he gestured for Jim to come inside. They sat in the dimly lit kitchen, beers in hand, chatting about everything and nothing. Hours passed, the tension in Jim’s chest easing as the alcohol dulled the edges of his anger. Finally, he decided it was time to go home.
The house was dark when he returned, the silence thick and foreboding. Climbing the stairs, he heard a faint buzzing sound. Puzzled, he followed it to the bedroom. There, at her dressing table, Ellie sat under the glare of the vanity lights. In her hand was Jim’s electric razor, its hum filling the room as she methodically shaved her scalp.
Jim stood in the doorway, arms folded, watching in stunned silence as Ellie ran the razor over her head again and again. She moved with a mechanical precision, her hand gliding over her scalp to ensure every trace of stubble was gone. The last remnants of her once-prized hair fell in tiny wisps to the floor.
Finally, she turned to him, her bare scalp gleaming under the lights. Her face was a mask of fury and defiance.
“Are you happy now?” she screamed. “Look at me! This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Jim remained silent, his arms still crossed, his expression unreadable.
Ellie’s voice rose, trembling with emotion. “Your days of being the good, lovable guy are over! Do you hear me? Wait until I show everyone what you’ve done to me. You’re finished! Everyone will see the monster you really are. Your life will never be the same again.”
She rubbed her hand over her smooth scalp, checking for any stray patches. Satisfied that her head was completely bare, she gave him one last venomous glare. “You might as well pack your bags and leave town now. There’s no place here for you anymore. Everyone will hate you as much as I do.”
Jim said nothing, his gaze fixed on her as she sat there, a mixture of triumph and rage etched into her features. The room felt heavy with unspoken words, the air charged with the fallout of what had transpired.
Jim spent a restless night on the couch, the events of the evening replaying in his mind. The silence of the house was deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards. He stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together what remained of a marriage that had been anything but happy. There seemed to be no way forward, only the faint hope that time would dull the sharp edges of their conflict.
The next morning, Jim dressed for work in silence, the tension still thick in the air. Ellie remained in the bedroom, the door shut tight. He left without a word, burying himself in the routine of his job. But as much as he tried, his thoughts kept drifting back to her—to the raw vulnerability on her face as she screamed at him, to the shining smoothness of her shaved head. He felt no vindication, only a hollow ache that wouldn’t leave.
Around three in the afternoon, his secretary knocked lightly on his office door. “There’s a call for you, Jim,” she said, her tone hesitant.
Jim picked up the phone, the voice on the other end catching him off guard. It was a woman, her tone strange and strained. “You’d better go see to your wife,” she said.
A pause.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” the voice continued, thick with emotion. “We’re all sorry.”
The line went dead.
Heart pounding, Jim grabbed his keys and rushed home, dreading what he might find. He pushed through the front door, calling Ellie’s name. The house was eerily quiet, but he heard faint, muffled sounds coming from their bedroom. He followed the noise, his chest tightening with every step.
Ellie was curled up on the bed, her body shaking with sobs. But no sound escaped her, as if her grief had overwhelmed even her ability to cry out. Her hands clutched the blanket tightly, and her bald head glistened faintly in the afternoon light streaming through the window.
Jim sat down gingerly beside her, unsure of what to say or do. After a moment, Ellie lifted her head to look at him. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes swollen and red. As she met his gaze, the dam broke, and she began to sob openly, the sound raw and filled with anguish.
“They laughed at me,” she choked out between sobs. “They… they thought I looked funny. They mocked me, Jim. They said I deserved it. That I had it coming.”
Her words tumbled out in a torrent. “They said it was my just deserts for being an obnoxious person. After all I’ve done for them… after everything…” She buried her face in her hands, her voice breaking. “They actually said I look the way I should look. A horrible freak.”
Ellie looked up at him, her face crumpled in despair. “Am I… am I really such a bad person?” she whispered.
Years of pent-up emotions surged within Jim as he looked at Ellie, her tear-streaked face pleading for reassurance. He took a deep breath, the weight of the truth pressing down on him.
“Ellie,” he said, his voice steady but firm, “you’re not a nice person. I’ve tried for years to make this work, to honour the vows I made to you. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live this lie.”
For a moment, Ellie froze, her face a mask of shock and disbelief. Then, as his words sank in, an animalistic scream erupted from her, raw and primal. She bolted from the room before Jim could react.
“Ellie!” Jim called, chasing after her. He found her in the kitchen, her hands trembling as she reached for a knife on the counter. Before he could stop her, she raised it to her wrist.
“Don’t!” Jim shouted, grabbing her arm just as the blade was about to touch her skin. In her fury and despair, Ellie turned on him, slashing wildly. The knife bit into his forearm, drawing a deep wound. He staggered back, clutching his arm, blood seeping through his fingers.
Ellie pulled free, her eyes wild with rage. She gripped the knife tighter, preparing to lunge again. Before she could strike, the kitchen door burst open.
“Jim!” JK’s voice boomed as he charged into the room. Taking in the chaotic scene in an instant, he moved with decisive force. As Ellie raised the knife to strike, JK pushed Jim out of harm’s way and grabbed Ellie’s wrist in one swift motion. With a practiced move, he disarmed her, the knife clattering to the tiled floor.
Ellie stumbled back, her momentum carrying her toward the counter. Her feet slipped on the smooth floor, and she fell backward. Her head struck the edge of the counter with a sickening thud, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Jim stood frozen, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his arm onto the floor. JK knelt beside Ellie, checking her pulse. “She’s alive,” he said grimly, his voice steady but tense. “Call an ambulance.”
Jim nodded, his hands shaking as he fumbled for his phone. The weight of everything—years of a fractured marriage, the events of the past day, and the chaos that had just unfolded—pressed down on him like a crushing tide.
“So, how did the day go?” JK asked, leaning back in his chair. He’d noticed that Jim hadn’t come to work earlier and had been waiting for an update.
Jim sighed, rubbing his bandaged arm. “It’s been a lot, JK. When Ellie came around after the fall, she completely lost it. She attacked the paramedics, clawing and kicking. They had to sedate her just to get her to the hospital.”
JK nodded grimly. “I was there, remember? I took you to the hospital, too.”
“That’s right,” Jim said, shaking his head as if to clear the fog of the past 24 hours. “I eventually got seen to—ended up needing seven stitches in my arm, but other than that, I’m okay. Physically, at least.”
“And Ellie?” JK asked, his voice careful.
Jim exhaled deeply. “That’s where things get… complicated. I had a long interview with the head of psychiatry today. He had some pretty alarming news. Ellie’s been kept sedated and restrained since last night. He strongly suggested that she be placed under psychiatric observation—says it might be the best way to avoid a possible arrest for assault or even attempted murder.”
JK’s expression darkened. “Attempted murder?”
Jim nodded slowly. “That’s what he said. Given everything that happened, it’s on the table. But he thinks if she’s kept under observation, it might be a way to avoid criminal charges. Either way, he hinted that she could be retained for a long time.”
“I’m so sorry, Jim,” JK said quietly. He looked genuinely pained, running a hand over his face.
“Honestly?” Jim said, his voice tinged with relief. “It’s a weight off my shoulders. I don’t think anyone really knew how far gone she was—not even me. But last night… it was like looking into a storm. It’s terrifying to think about what might have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”
JK gave a faint, rueful smile. “I’m glad I did. After my wife phoned you and you rushed home, she called me too. She told me about what happened at the meeting, how the others mocked Ellie. I could tell something was wrong, really wrong. That’s why I came over.”
Jim looked at him, his expression softening. “I don’t know how to thank you, JK. If you hadn’t been there…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t want to think about how it might have ended.”
JK placed a firm hand on Jim’s shoulder. “You’d do the same for me. Now, let’s figure out where you go from here.”
“By the way, Jim,” JK said, raising an eyebrow, “how did you explain Ellie’s shaved head to the police and the psychiatrist?”
Jim sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I told them the truth—well, most of it. I said we’d had an argument, and she got so upset that she grabbed a pair of scissors and started hacking away at her hair. I tried to stop her, but she locked herself in the bathroom. That’s when I came to you.”
JK nodded slowly. “And the razor?”
“When I got back home, I found her sitting at the dressing table, shaving her head completely bald with my razor. She was trying to make herself look like a victim—to make me out as the villain.” He paused, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Thankfully, people have seen her true personality over the years. I guess that worked in my favour, because nobody bought her story. The police and the psychiatrist let me off the hook.”
JK let out a low whistle. “That’s one way to diffuse a bomb.”
Jim gave a weak smile. “It’s at least partly the truth, so I can live with it.”
There was a moment of silence as both men reflected on the sheer absurdity of the situation. JK broke the quiet with a reassuring tone. “Now it’s just about rebuilding your life, Jim. Putting this behind you.”
Jim nodded, his gaze distant. “You’re right. It’s strange… After everything, I almost feel relieved. Like I’ve been carrying this unbearable weight for so long, and it’s finally starting to lift.”
“How you’ve endured all this is nothing short of a miracle,” JK said earnestly. “You deserve a fresh start.”
Jim looked at him and managed a genuine, albeit small, smile. “Thanks, JK. I think I’m finally ready to take it.”
