Sarahs unexpected trip to the barbershop part two

Sarah sat in the front seat of the car, her eyes red and puffy from crying, feeling utterly devastated and betrayed by her mother. Mrs. Kerns remained blissfully unaware of her daughter’s turmoil, her eyes focused on the road ahead as she drove them home from the unexpected trip to the barber shop. “Your going to love having your head shaved every day, it’s so much more convenient and it really makes you look so much more mature,” she said, her voice filled with a disturbing enthusiasm. Sarah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was as if her mom had not seen her horror and humiliation only moments ago. She stared out the window, watching the world go by in a blur of confusion and anger.

Her mom’s words echoed in her mind, taunting her. “Why won’t you do it then if it’s so great?” she finally asked, her voice trembling. Mrs. Kerns glanced at her in the mirror, a surprised look crossing her face. “Well, sweetheart, it’s just not something a woman my age can pull off. Plus, I have my hair stylist who does my hair every week, and I enjoy the time I spend with her. It’s different for you. You’re young, and your hair grows so fast, it’s perfect for keeping shaved. It’s a low-maintenance look that suits you.” She said it with a smile, as if she was explaining why ice cream is only for children.

Sarah felt the anger rising in her chest. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. “You lost all my trust the second that buzzing machine touched my head,” she spat out, her voice filled with venom. “You didn’t even ask me what I wanted! You just decided that my hair was too long and had it all shaved off like it was nothing!” Mrs. Kerns’s smile faltered, and she took a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the road. “Sarah, I know it’s hard to understand right now, but I did this because I care about you. I want you to look and feel your best, and sometimes that means making tough decisions for you.”

The words felt like knives to Sarah’s heart. “Tough decisions? You had no right!” she exclaimed. “I don’t feel safe around you anymore. How do I know you won’t just decide to do something like this again?” Her voice grew louder, the betrayal thick in every syllable. Mrs. Kerns’s eyes grew wide with shock and sadness, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Sarah, you’re overreacting. It’s just hair. It’ll grow back,”

Mrs. Kerns tried to calm her daughter down, but Sarah was beyond consoling. She turned to face her mom, the anger in her eyes unmistakable. “It’s not just about the hair, it’s about the control!” she yelled. “You can’t just dictate what I look like without even asking me! And now you’re paying Molly to keep me like this?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Mom, if you’re paying Molly to do this to me every day, it won’t just be a haircut. It’ll be like you’re paying for a personal stylist, and I’m the stylist’s personal doll!”

Mrs. Kerns sighed heavily, her own frustration rising. “Sarah, it’s not like that,” she said, her voice strained. “I’m just trying to help you see the practical side of this. You won’t have to worry about your hair ever again. And it’s not like you can’t ever grow it out. I’m just saying, for now, this is what I want for you. And if it means paying Molly a little extra to make sure it’s done right, then that’s what I’ll do.” She paused, trying to find the right words. “If you really hate it, we can talk about it after the summer. But for now, I want you to give it a chance.”

Sarah felt a spark of hope, but she couldn’t let go of the anger just yet. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “But you should join me. You can’t just sit there and watch me go through this alone.” Mrs. Kerns glanced at her again, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said sweetly. “You see, I have my own style, and I quite enjoy my hair the way it is. But you, on the other hand, need this change. It’ll be good for you.” She reached over and patted Sarah’s knee, the gesture feeling more patronizing than comforting.

Sarah’s hand shot out and slapped her mother’s hand away. “Don’t touch me!” she shouted. “You’re a monster!” The car grew tense, the silence between them thick with unspoken words. Mrs. Kerns’s eyes narrowed, and she took a deep breath before speaking. “Now, now, let’s not get too dramatic,” she said, her voice icy. “I’m just trying to help you become a better version of yourself.”

But Sarah was beyond listening. “You had no right to do this to me!” she sobbed, her hands flying to her shaved head. “You didn’t consider my feelings at all!” she screamed, her voice cracking with pain. “Everyone is going to think I’m a freak!”

Mrs. Kerns took a deep breath and turned the car into their driveway. “Sarah, you’re overreacting,” she said calmly. “You’re still the same person you were before you got your hair cut. Your hair doesn’t define you.”

But Sarah felt like her identity had been stripped away. She looked down at her bare legs, and then at the reflection of her shaved head in the window. “You don’t get it,” she said, her voice shaking. “You had every right to get your hair done how you liked it, but you had no right to do this to me. I just lost something I cherished, and it was all because you didn’t like it.”

Mrs. Kerns sighed, her expression a mix of annoyance and pity. “Sarah, it’s just hair,” she said, trying to placate her daughter. “You’re going to be fine. And think of all the money we’ll save on hair products and styling tools.”

Sarah’s eyes flashed with anger. “If it’s just hair, then why don’t you shave your own head?” she shot back, her voice trembling.

Mrs. Kerns’s eyes widened in surprise at the challenge. “Why would I do that?” she replied, her voice cool and composed. “As I said, I’m happy with my hair the way it is. Besides, I’m a woman, and women are expected to have hair. It’s different for you. You’re a young girl, and you need to learn to appreciate simplicity and practicality.”

Sarah couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mother’s mouth. She felt like her world had been turned upside down. “You’re disgusting,” she spat out. “You sit there with your perfect hair, telling me it’s just hair, but when it’s on someone else’s head, it’s suddenly a big deal. You’ve lost all respect from me.”

Mrs. Kerns’s face grew stern. “Sarah, you’re being unreasonable. I had my reasons for wanting you to get this haircut, and they’re all for your own good.” She paused, trying to find the right words to explain herself. “You know how much time and money you spend on your hair. It’s a waste. With a shaved head, you can focus on other things. Plus, it’s so much easier to maintain.”

Sarah looked at her mother with a mix of anger and disbelief. “You think this is about money and time?” she yelled. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me!” She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “You’ve taken away my choice, my dignity, and my ability to feel pretty!”

Mrs. Kerns pulled into the garage and turned off the car, her expression unreadable. “Sarah, I know you’re upset, but you’re being dramatic. It’s just a haircut.” She reached out to comfort her, but Sarah recoiled.

“Nothing you say to me will ever change my opinion of you now,” Sarah said, her voice filled with a cold finality that sent a shiver down Mrs. Kerns’s spine. “I thought you were on my side, but you’re just another person trying to control me.”

Mrs. Kerns felt a pang of regret, but she quickly pushed it aside, reminding herself that she had done this for Sarah’s own good. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said, her voice tight. “But sometimes, as a parent, you have to make decisions that your children may not like.”

Sarah grabbed her bag and stormed out of the car, slamming the door behind her. She rushed into the house, ignoring her mother’s calls for her to come back and talk. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to hear any more of her mother’s justifications. She just wanted to be away from her, to be somewhere where she could just be herself, without the constant judgment and control.

Her heart pounding in her chest, she raced upstairs to her room and threw open her closet. She grabbed the largest beanie she could find and pulled it over her shaved head, the fabric providing a small semblance of comfort as it brushed against her sensitive scalp. She didn’t bother looking in the mirror; she didn’t want to see the person staring back at her. Instead, she quickly packed a bag with some clothes, her phone, and her wallet.

With trembling hands, she wrote a hasty note, trying to explain that she needed some space to think. She knew her mother would be upset, but she couldn’t face her right now. The betrayal was too fresh, the pain too raw. She needed to get away, to figure out what to do next. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere was better than here.

Sarah took one last look around her room, her eyes lingering on the framed pictures of her with her long hair. It felt like a lifetime ago. She swiped at the tears that threatened to spill again and took a deep breath. It was time to go. She didn’t have much money, but she had enough for a bus ticket to the greyhound station. She’d figure the rest out once she was on her way.

Her heart raced as she stepped out of the house, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside. She didn’t bother looking back as she sprinted down the street, the beanie clutched tightly in her hand. The greyhound station was a few miles away, but she didn’t care. She had to get out of there.

The neon lights of the station flickered in the distance as she approached, the sound of engines and distant chatter a comforting hum compared to the silence of the car ride home. She bought a ticket to the other side of the country, not really knowing where she was going, just that it was as far from home as she could get.

Sarah waited on the grimy bench, her thoughts racing. She knew her mother had meant well, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of violation. Her hair had been a part of her identity, a part of her she had nurtured and cherished, and in a single afternoon it had been stripped away without her consent. The weight of her mother’s words, the coldness in her touch, it all felt like a betrayal she might never recover from.

The bus pulled into the station, its engine rumbling and hissing like a beast waking from a slumber. The doors creaked open, and a gust of stale air filled her nose. She took a deep breath, the smell of diesel and stale fast food mixing with her own fear and anger. She climbed aboard, her legs feeling like lead. The driver took her ticket with a nod, his eyes not lingering on her bare head. She found a seat by the window and collapsed into it, feeling the cool glass against her forehead.

As the bus pulled away from the station, she watched her hometown shrink into the distance. The streetlights blurred into a line of gold, a stark contrast to the inky blackness of the night. Sarah felt a strange mix of excitement and terror. She was going to a place where no one knew her, a place where she could start over. The idea of a fresh start in a new city thrilled her, but the reality was she was running away from her mother and the life she had known.

The journey to Seattle would take almost two days, and she had plenty of time to think. Sarah pulled out her phone and scoured the internet for places to stay and things to do. She had friends there from camp, she could crash with them for a while. And there was always the option of getting a part-time job to support herself. The bus lurched as it picked up speed, and she felt a strange sense of liberation. She had never been so far from home on her own before.

Finally, the bus pulled into the bustling station in the heart of the city. The rain pattered against the window, giving everything a soft glow under the street lights. Sarah took a deep breath, her heart racing with excitement. She grabbed her bag and stepped off the bus, the cool, damp air of the city hitting her like a wall. She looked around, taking in the towering buildings and the hustle and bustle of people rushing to and fro.

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