Mother is in command.

The shed was dimly lit, the only light coming from the single bulb hanging over the old rickety wooden stool. The air was thick and humid amplifying the tension in the small space. Tara, the young girl and trembling slightly , sat rigid on the stool , her naked shoulders and knees exposed beneath the light brown plastic cape that clung to her skin in the heat. Tiny beads of sweat gathered at her temples, mingling with the fine clippings of her dark auburn hair that stuck stubbornly to her cheeks.

Her uncle stood behind her, holding the hand clippers in one hand and a comb in the other. His hands were steady, but his expression was firm and unyielding. Her mother Jenny, standing to the side. watched with a mix of determination and satisfaction. ” It`s for the wedding, ” she said, as thought that explained everything. ” You need to look the best and a  no  nonsense clipper cut suits you very well, and i know your fiance will appreciate it.

Tara`s throat tightened, but she didnt argue. She had already tried earlier, pleading for a less severe shearing, but her mothers response was final. ” As a married woman your hair must be kept neat and tidy at all times. ” The words twisting in her stomach like a not.

The first hash clickings of the clippers broke the humid silence. Tara flinched as the cold metal blades touched nape of her neck, the sharp blades biting brutally close to her skin. I`m beeing clipped to the bone, she thought to herself. With every squeeze of the handles another strip of her hair fell away, drifting lazily to the concerete floor, where it stuck between her naked toes.

The hand clippers werent fast like the electric ones, they worked with a slow deliberate rhythm, each stroke scraping away more and more of her thick hair. Her nape, once soft and covered with luxurious auburn locks , now felt exposed and vulnerable under the warm sticky air. With a firm grip of her head, her uncle worked the silver machine high up on her head, the blades crunching as they stripped the strands, guiding her head to the left, right and forward. The clippers was unrelenting, climbing aggresively above her ears and temples, leaving her scalp raw and starkly white. A couple of times they tugged  behind her ears and she started to fidget. " Ouuch., " she said with a wimper. He didnt seem to notice.  After the nape area he continued around her head from ear to ear. Leaving just the top hair long enough to comb to one side.

Her humiliation deepened as the tiny clippings stuck to her cheeks, her neck and under the cape collar, itching incessantly. She could feel the weight of her mother`s gaze, her approval , and the oppressive silence that seemed to judge her inability to protest.

Her uncle stepped back, laid the clippers in her lap, surveying his handiwork. ” Well, it` s clean and tidy.” He said gruffly, wiping his hands off of tiny hairclippings from Tara`s head. ” No fuss.”

Her mother nodded in agreement. ” Perfect for the upcoming holidays and wedding.  This way you won`t have to worry about it getting messy.”

Taras eyes brimmed but didnt fall. Crying would only make it worse. Instead she bit her lip and stared at the corners of the shed and focusing on the cobwebs and trying to ignore the burning humiliation. Her fiance`s face flashed in her mind and she wondered how he would react. Would he even notice her shame ? Or would he just see a neat obedient girl.

When her uncle removed the cape from her, the clippings scattered, sticking to her bare shoulders and sliding down her damp skin. She brushed them off quickly, but the itch lingered between her toes, on her neck and cheeks and in her soul.   Her mother smirked as she commented, ” See ? You `ll thank me later.”

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