Usually whenever my mother leaves the house, me and my step-dad get into huge fights about absolutely anything and everything. Each time we do this, he threatens to cut off my hair. He’s even brought it up to my mum several times, saying that with my mouth he’s gonna end up cutting it all off, and she just agrees. I don’t think mum cares really, she never does.
This time, we were arguing over the dinner which I had overcooked on purpose.
“You ungrateful bitch! I pay the bills and for that food, and you disrespect me by burning it!”
”Yeah, well maybe if you weren’t such a dick I would have respect for you!”
There’s one silent rule in the house, and that is that I do not cuss at any of them. The last time I cussed, I had a soap bar shoved in my mouth and was screaming and crying. ‘Never again’, I said. Now, I know I’ve completely blew it.
“Right,” was all he said as he pulled out a chair, me standing as still as a statue. I didn’t move as he went into the garden for a split second and then came back inside with his hands behind his back. I wish I had. Before I had time to react, he had grabbed me and yanked me in the chair, grabbing my hands and tying them behind me and the chair. I gasped in shock, and he knelt down to grab my feet and tied them behind the thin wooden foot rest of the chair, too. Taking a slice of the duct tape he brought inside with him, he placed a slice over my lips, sealing them shut.
“You ungrateful brat, bad mouthing me when I have provided you with everything you need! Never again once I’m done with you.” Tears dropped from my eyes as I understood what punishment I was destined for. He grabbed his scissors and cut off my shirt, leaving me bare-breasted in front of him. “We don’t want to get any hair on your clothes now, do we?” He then exited the room again for a quick moment.
My step-dad came back inside with his clippers, straight razor, shaving scream and a bottle of something I didn’t recognise but listed it off as lotion. He said nothing as he switched the guardless clippers on, the faint hum recognisable to me. He still said nothing as he placed them at my forehead and dragged them through my hair and to my nape, shaving a complete strip of hair off in the centre. At this point I was crying uncontrollably. After that, he shaved off strip after strip, leaving the smallest of stubble on my head. Once he was done with the clippers, he turned them off and grabbed the can of shaving scream. As much as I was horrified by this, the experience of having shaving cream slathered onto my head was extremely satisfying. Then, I heard and felt the first scrape on my head, and knew that the last of my hair was being erased. “Don’t move now, or I might cut you.”
He worked across my head steadily, making sure to shave me to the scalp, leaving me completely smooth. And smooth I was. Once he was finished, he stroked my head so I could feel it. Tears no longer ran down my head as I excepted my fate.
“We’re not done yet, little rabbit.” He then grabbed his straight razor once again and flicked it across my eyebrows, getting rid of the perfectly shaped hair. I didn’t think it could get any worse until he whispered, “one more to go”.
In my mind I was as confused as anything, until he picked up the bottle and showed me the label. ’Everlasting hair removal’.
“What do you think? I read reviews of it online and many people said that if you leave it on for 15 minutes, it permanently destroys the hair follicles. Isn’t that just great?” My mind was screaming at me as I struggled, wafting my head around in hopes that he won’t gain control, only he did. My step-dad grabbed my head and poured what seemed like the entire bottle over my head and brows. “I figured I’d make sure that it really was permanent.”
He smothered my head and face in the hair removal, making sure my skin absorbed every last drop. Then, whilst we had to wait for 15 minutes, he used a thin pair of scissors to cut off my eyelashes, really ridding me of hair, and then began sweeping all the hair into a corner. Once the time was up, the removal cream had been absorbed. He grabbed the mirror which we had hung in the wall, and showed me what I look like. I choked on a sob as I saw my reflection: a shiny head as smooth as a cueball, eyebrows and eyelashes nowhere to be found. I looked like a hairless freak!
My step-dad said nothing to me as he untied me. I still didn’t move, so he took this as the time to massage and pinch my nipples, and even give them a small lick and suck. “Next time, I’ll have these nipples cut off and your breasts removed,” was the last thing he said as he got up and left the room, leaving me.