The Haircut

“You are not going to believe the haircut I just got,” I screamed into the phone.  I knew the second I sat down, something was wrong.  Sam had a wide-eyed, blank stare on her face and as I started to get up, she put bother her hands on my shoulders and shoved me back into the salon chair. 

“Hey Sam, umm, how’s it going today?  How are you feeling?”  I stammered as she started to rearrange her supplies.  All I could see were the sharp scissors she kept moving from side to side. 

“Oh, nothing.  Everything is fine.  How are you today?  What are we doing with your cut?”  Her eyes and hands seemed to be out of her own control. 

“Sam, I think I’ll need to reschedule.” 

As I stood up to leave, Sam’s hand reached out, grabbed the scissors and cut a sizeable chunk of my hair straight off. I stared at her not knowing quite what to say or what to do. We locked eyes in the mirror and I could see that she was still holding the scissors in her hand. 

“Sit back down so we can finish your cut,” Sam calmly and quietly pushed me back into her chair as I stared at her in the mirror.  I could see the other hair stylists staring at the two of us.  As she smiled crookedly at me, I got on the edge of my toes to run.  To run from my sister and never come back. 


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