The Iceberg Tipping
Tragic.
Tragic, is what it would be. That’s the word they would have used in an obituary. Tragic and so young. For her seventeenth birthday her parents told her she needed a haircut and after four years, you’d think she’d waited long enough. The young woman that was commissioned for the job, however, didn’t have a bone her body that didn’t scream for disobedience. “You should go for the full fringe,” she said, smiling a bubblegum smile and eyes twinkling with the idea of this beautiful young girl with a beautiful youthful haircut.
indent “No,” was the simple answer she got.
indent The hairdresser nodded, but didn’t take in the word. Maybe it wasn’t that she didn’t understand but that she’d had a cloudy mind that foggy morning. It was a truth that she’d broken up with the boy of her dreams the night before, anyway. They’d been at a standstill, is what she thought. He stopped bringing her presents, she started denying him sex. He was probably cheating anyway, she thought as a hint of anger touched her green eyes. She knew he had been faithful, but her half stocked mind needed to come up with something to justify it’s actions.
indent She continued to clip at the younger’s hair, letting it fall to the floor in deep auburn clumps. He’d always called her Sammy and she’d initially hated it, no one else would dare to call her that, but there had been a fondness in the nickname from him. She already missed it, a tear threatened to spill from the corner of her eye, but she pulled it back and cut at the young girl’s bangs. Straight across went the scissors and her mind had long been thrown out the window.
indent Tragic, is what our young beauty was thinking when she found herself looking into the small mirror. Too nice to verbally dismantle Sammy’s composure, she slowly stood and handed over the immaculate check her mother had given her earlier that morning. “Thank you,” she murmured in the other girl’s direction before leaving the shop and crying herself.
indent It was only a haircut, she chided herself. Why cry over a silly haircut, right? Her hands balled into fists and she threw them downwards as far as they would go as she stiffly walked her way back home for more birthday fun.
indent Freshly seventeen and her life was already in ruins, she figured the death would be the least tragic aspect of her life.
indent “No,” was the simple answer she got.
indent The hairdresser nodded, but didn’t take in the word. Maybe it wasn’t that she didn’t understand but that she’d had a cloudy mind that foggy morning. It was a truth that she’d broken up with the boy of her dreams the night before, anyway. They’d been at a standstill, is what she thought. He stopped bringing her presents, she started denying him sex. He was probably cheating anyway, she thought as a hint of anger touched her green eyes. She knew he had been faithful, but her half stocked mind needed to come up with something to justify it’s actions.
indent She continued to clip at the younger’s hair, letting it fall to the floor in deep auburn clumps. He’d always called her Sammy and she’d initially hated it, no one else would dare to call her that, but there had been a fondness in the nickname from him. She already missed it, a tear threatened to spill from the corner of her eye, but she pulled it back and cut at the young girl’s bangs. Straight across went the scissors and her mind had long been thrown out the window.
indent Tragic, is what our young beauty was thinking when she found herself looking into the small mirror. Too nice to verbally dismantle Sammy’s composure, she slowly stood and handed over the immaculate check her mother had given her earlier that morning. “Thank you,” she murmured in the other girl’s direction before leaving the shop and crying herself.
indent It was only a haircut, she chided herself. Why cry over a silly haircut, right? Her hands balled into fists and she threw them downwards as far as they would go as she stiffly walked her way back home for more birthday fun.
indent Freshly seventeen and her life was already in ruins, she figured the death would be the least tragic aspect of her life.