Snip. Snip. Snip. I continued moving the scissors open then shut, open then shut, like a broken record that keeps doing the same thing over and over again. With the short hair snaked in between the blades, I cut. I wasn’t even paying attention while I cut, I was off in a place where 3 year olds were free to do whatever they wanted. We could even go and climb that one tree that was as impossible to climb as running on an ice coated road. I seemed to regain thought as I cut a few more hairs off though. Done, I thought. I motioned for my friend to turn around so that I would be able to see my masterpiece, but it certainly did not go as planned. As he turned around my heart sank.

Bits and pieces of hair were missing from all around his head. His head was as hairless as a poodle. Where there was once some great hair flowing from his scalp, now stood some short stubby hair that you could see through to the scalp. Now was the time to panic. What was I going to tell my mom? How would she react? What about his mom? Will she start screaming at me for hurting her poor little sons hair? Or worse of all, what will he do to me once he sees his head in the mirror? All these questions zoom through my head as I try and decide what my next move would be. I decided to start by telling him what I had just done.

“Hey, ummm,” I managed to stutter through my tight throat.

“Yeah,” he quickly responded as if he knew what was coming.

I couldn’t speak. Words got caught in my throat longing to be released as I tried to get my point across. I slowly lifted a shaking hand and pointed it towards the mirror. And as I did so I burst into tears. He understood and slowly took in his new appearance through the mirror. Just as I did, he burst into tears, but, unlike me, he hopped out of the hot car we had been sitting in and ran towards his gloomy house without another word. I stepped out of the car at a slower pace hoping that I wouldn’t have to deal with this until at least tomorrow.

Sure enough I woke up the next morning to my mom standing there looking quite stern.

“Lauren,” my mom scolded, “you are to go over and give your most sincere apology to his mom for what you have done.”

“Ok,” was all I could respond through my shaky voice.

I was a sloth, going as slow as I possibly could, procrastinating, as I thought out what exactly I would say, and went through it in my brain a couple times before I reached his yard. I walked up to the grey house. The gloomy color shrieked out at me, telling me to turn back and just make up a lie to tell my mom, but I would not do such a deserves. I walked up to the gloomy house, as I walked I noticed that the sidewalk was cracked and weeds were spread out all throughout the garden. In fact it wasn’t even much of a garden at all, there was just one flower growing in the garden. I ignored it. When I reached the door I froze, unsure of what might happen within the next few moments. Eventually, I rang the doorbell with my hand shaking a little, slowing me down. Sure enough my friends mom stood there, not with a angry expression, but more of a cheerful one with her arm spread out, welcoming me back into her home.

I did not step into her house out of fear of being scolded, instead, I just stood there and stammered the words “I’m so sorry for cutting off most of your son's hair.”

She did not answer immediately, and instead responded in a few full hearted laughs.

Once she did respond she had replied “Why, you don’t need to apologize for that, we all shared a couple good laughs once he came home.”

I felt my face turned as bright red as a rose, with both embarrassment and relief.

“Now, why don’t you run along and i’ll send him over to your house once I find him.”

“That would be nice,” I replied as I walked away from the house.

The single flower now stands out to me more, with its bright yellow color and green stem. I find it amazing that something so beautiful could survive in a place that seems to be in such a desperate environment. It almost seems...impossible.