Kathryn’s Awakening – Chris Hall
“Girls. This is Jennifer Kennedy, who will be joining the class today. I hope that you will all make her feel welcome.”
A hush fell upon the classroom as twenty-one heads turned to look at the new girl standing at the front of the class. She was quite short, with a mass of black curls that reached halfway down her back. As Kathryn Livingstone watched the girl, her mind went back six months to the day she stood in that place, just before her beautiful long, golden hair had been mercilessly chopped off. She had since found out that everyone had had the same treatment when they had first arrived, and a haircut had been threatened at times for misbehaviour. It hadn’t ever been carried out, but Kathryn was sure it wasn’t an idle threat. Now it was Jennifer’s turn to be ‘inducted’.
The girls in the class lined up against the wall and, while two of them held the new girl down in a chair, they took turns to walk up and chop off a lock of Jennifer’s thick hair. As Kathryn walked up, she felt a surge of adrenaline, and her heart started to beat a little faster, almost as if she was going to enjoy what she was about to do. She was sure that wasn’t going to be the case. Her hand went involuntarily to her head and felt the shaggy blonde strands that had been growing out in the last six months. She hadn’t bothered to cut it in that time, waiting for it to grow out enough for a one-length cut. Right now, it was a mess! A tinge of sadness came over her as she remembered the silky weight of her former crowning glory, then she reached out and took a handful of Jennifer’s hair. She looked at the ravages caused by the other girls before her – stumps of hair of various lengths poked out among the remaining curls. Holding the hair close to the head, Kathryn took the scissors and sawed the lock off. She held it against her face for a moment, feeling its silky warmth on her cheek, then laid it carefully across Jennifer’s lap, on the increasing pile of hair, and walked back to her seat.
Previously, she had been too lost in her own thoughts to take any notice of her classmates shearing the new girl, but now she found herself strangely drawn to the event. It was as if the cutting of that lock had exorcised the ghost of what had happened to her, and now she started getting a little excited – even aroused? – every time the scissors closed and another lock parted company. Then the first stage was over, and Miss Todd, the tutor, took the hair from the girl’s lap and banded it before hanging it in the cupboard and returning with the clippers and mirror.
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“Kathryn, as our newest recruit, would you please finish Jennifer off?” said Miss Todd, holding out the clippers.
Kathryn’s heart skipped a beat as she stepped up, half in a daze to take the clippers. She walked behind Jennifer, feeling first the cold steel, then the stumps of dark hair on the girl’s head. As she switched on the clippers and heard (felt) the buzz, the blood pumped more rapidly through her. She pushed Jennifer’s head down and ran the clippers in a line from the nape of the neck up to the crown, and over. A mass of short, black hairs fell in front of Jennifer’s eyes as she was left with a reverse mohican style – a light grey stripe in the middle of the black. Kathryn let out a silent moan as she saw the hair tumble down. Again, she recalled the feeling of humiliation of being shaved in public, and suddenly, inexplicably, she longed to feel the clippers’ cold steel on her own scalp as she mowed through the remains of Jennifer’s hair. Again lost in her own arousal, Kathryn barely noticed when she was done, and all that remained of the girl’s thick, black curls was a rough ¼” crew-cut. She switched off the clippers and returned to her seat.
That night, Kathryn awoke with a start. She must have been dreaming, but she couldn’t remember the dream at all. Slightly confused, she put her hand up to her head and felt her hair, then looked at the clock by her bed. It showed 1:17 in bright green digits. Then the dream flooded back to her – she had dreamt she was back in that chair on her first day at the school, being sheared, but instead of crying, as she had done at the time, she was laughing and almost begging the girls to cut off the long hair. Then her mind went back to this morning, and how she had felt while she clipped Jennifer. Again, she longed to feel the clippers against her scalp. She tried to go back to sleep, but now she was wide awake, and the feeling was getting stronger. Kathryn got up out of bed and walked over to her dressing table. She sat down and switched on the lamp above the mirror. Blinking a few times as her eyes got accustomed to the light, Kathryn stared at her reflection. Again, her hand went up to her hair, this awful, ragged hair, and a glint caught her eye. She looked down on the table and saw her nail scissors. Without thinking, she picked them up and snipped off a thin lock of hair. Then another. And another. Then she was working furiously around her head, picking strands of hair and cutting them off. A small pile of hair on the dressing table became a large pile, and Kathryn moaned as she snipped off the last long lock and surveyed her handiwork in the mirror.
“What have I done?” she thought, staring at her reflection. It was still a mess – just a shorter mess. Somehow, she would have to neaten it up. Then, she remembered the clippers, and how much she had wanted them. She got up, put on a dressing gown and slippers, and silently opened her bedroom door. The corridor was deserted, so she stepped out and padded downstairs to the classroom. The door wasn’t locked, so she eased it open and made her way across to the cupboard. She saw again the lengths of hair hanging at the back of the cupboard – hers still the longest. She reached out and felt it, stroked it, remembering how it had felt hanging down her bare back, then sighed. No more, she decided. She picked up the clippers, shut the cupboard and stole back to her room.
In front of her mirror, Kathryn looked again at her chopped hairstyle, then at the clippers, then back at her hair. She switched the clippers on, heard the buzz, and switched them off again, suddenly scared by it. She looked again at her reflection, then seemed to decide, and switched on the clippers. She slowly raised the clippers to her forehead, shivering as they contacted the skin away from the hairline, then moved them forward. The buzzing noise changed slightly as the whirring blades nipped the hair. Kathryn took the clippers away abruptly, and a few wisps of hair floated in front of her eyes and settled on her nose. She blew them off, and raised the clippers again for another go. This time, she didn’t flinch as they met and sliced through the hair. Kathryn ran the clippers across her head, creating the reverse mohican, and feeling the tickle of the hair falling down her back. She switched off the clippers again and looked at herself. Past the point of no return now, she thought, and brought them up again as her heart started pumping faster. As she continued to shave, she touched herself with her free hand, and started to feel the juices flow. Moaning, she pushed her fingers inside and rubbed while the clippers continued to do their job in a random fashion. She felt hotter and hotter, then gasped as she released warm moisture into her hand. She put the clippers down, breathing heavily, and wiped her hand on a tissue. God, that felt good! She looked again at her reflection. Her head was mostly covered in a short fuzz, with a few tufts of longer hair sticking out. Breathing more easily now, Kathryn picked up the clippers for a final time and completed the transformation. She stared at herself in the mirror, and a smile curled on her lips.
“Everyone should look like this,” she thought. “Yes, every one of those bitches that cut my hair…”