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Beautiful, beautiful hair...
By Lily Alex
Rated "PG" by the Author.
Last
edited: Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Posted: Friday, October 11, 2002
Could you commit suicide on your wedding day?
It rarely happened that a brunette liked the color of her hair.
Men prefer blondes, and I don't even know one brunette who hadn't tried to color her hair at least once.
The same went for me.
A smart woman would try it in a calm situation, but a thoughtless person like I am couldn't find a better day to do it, than to do it exactly on my very own wedding day.
* * *
It was 9:23 am, as I looked at the clock. The ceremony would be starting around 6pm so I had plenty of time.
Of course I was excited and nervous; the desire to do something tortured me.
Suddenly an idea arose in my soul; "What if I bleach my hair?"
The idea sounded good, I had bleach for the hair, and I also had a dark-brown color, because my mom used it.
"If the blond hair doesn't suit me, I'll just color it back," I thought.
The room had a sink as well, so I didn't need to go anywhere. I took the tube, carelessly browsed the instructions, pasted my head, wrapped it with a towel and sat in an armchair.
Suddenly, I noticed a new magazine, and I took it, and started reading. I don't have a timer, so I just threw glances at the clock, waiting for 20-25 minutes as the instructions said.
But reading the new magazine had captured me, I lost my sense of time and only irresistible itching jogged my memory.
I looked at the clock.
My God! An entire hour had passed!
I took off the towel and started to wash my head.
Of course, my eyes were closed.
When I opened them, at first I didn't understand the sight.
The whole sink was full of strange stuff: something like straw, or fur, or rotten grass...
Growing cold, I lifted my head and looked at my reflection.
Later my mom said, in this situation she would commit suicide.
A horrible monster was staring at me from the mirror.
Some of locks of my hair just fell off. The rest resembled bast after a mad dog had munched it, and it was whimsically colored into all imaginable hues and tints from very bright yellow through red-orange to dark brown.
If there was a contest for the scare-crow's hair I surely would be the winner.
I looked at myself for a long time.
I remember very well that I was awfully calm, and all my morning nerves were gone.
I took a comb and tried to brush my hair.
The comb's prongs couldn't get through.
Without any thought, I dried my hair, and put on my wedding dress.
I looked again at the mirror, naively hoping it was just a bad dream, and my hair was still as it was this morning.
In vain!
Thank God for the bridal veil.
I put it on, and it did hide most of my ruined hair. The rest of the time I spent decorating the visible holes with flowers.
Only one thought was bothering me: "What if the veil falls off?"
I used all the hair-pins, ribbons and even some wire that I found in the room. I fastened it so securely that now it could only be taken off with my head.
Time was up, and I came out. My mom looked at me with surprise: last evening I said I didn't want to wear a veil - only a wreath. She didn't know why did I change my mind, but she asked nothing.
* * *
When (in the evening) I finally took it out, and my family saw my hair, my calm, shy husband, who all ways was very self-contained, laughed crazily, my mom sat straight on the floor, and my mother-in-law fainted! (I'm not kidding)
***
Next day I had to cut off all my hair, almost like a boxers cut, but I'm light-headed - I didn't mind!
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