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The maze
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I sat there, numb, unable to move, staring straight ahead as she uselessly tried to pull a brush through my hair. He was gone. And I could never get him back.
The girl gave up, putting the brush to the side and pulling out a pair of scissors. Fresh tears ran down my face as I watched her began cutting my hair into a pixie cut. The mere was old but showed my new hair cut perfectly.
It only showed the brown of my hair now, and framed my face perfectly. But it wasn't me. The pictures that ran through my head told me it was me. But the maze had changed that. It wasn't me anymore. I wasn't sure that I could ever be the girl I was before again.
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Last updated: Aug 10, 2016
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