Leila

Prologue

Prologue.

The street was empty. The sky was a brilliant orange, just as it was every day at 6am in Los Angeles. The shop signs and the dark windows on the buildings were visible. Some of them had a light shining. Obviously, some of them had woken up. It was a cold winter’s morning.

An old, pale blue car came onto the street. The car stopped quite abruptly, outside a hair salon. The sign on the top said ‘Silver Lake Hair Salon.’ And underneath, it said ‘The best hair salon in Los Angeles’. The writing was in silver, and the background was an exceptionally bright shade of purple, which made the silver writing stand out.

A woman just climbed out of the car, and looked up at the sign. She was quite old, and she wore clothes that looked really old, and worn out. Wow, they have the money to spend on stuff like a fancy board, but they don’t have the money to pay an old cleaner like me who works hard as hell for a little bit of money! She thought.  They have money to do things to attract customers, and squeeze the money out of them for cutting off their hair, but, they don’t have enough money to pay me. Great (!)

She walked near the door, and she took a bunch of keys out of her left coat pocket. She opened the door, and she walked in to see a really nice waiting area, with really fancy armchairs, which were the same shape, but they were all different colours. They way they were arranged made the arrangement made the row of chairs look like a rainbow. They were pretty impressive. These must’ve cost them a fortune! She thought. 

She moved very swiftly into the actual Salon. It was kind of dark in there, so she switched on the light. It was a mess. There was electrical hair equipment lying around. There was different coloured hair on the floor. It looked like there was a tonne of it. They’re giving me $20 to clean this dump in two hours?! These misers! She thought.

She walked further into the room, and went straight for the cleaner’s cupboard to get a brush and dustpan to sweep up the cut hair. The door was really old, and it was a different kind of colour to normal wooden doors. It was a really dark shade of yellow, and it looked almost light brown. The door handle was stained with something red. She didn’t want to touch this, but luckily for her, the door was just ajar. She opened the door by putting two fingers in the gap and pulling it towards her.

When she opened the door, she immediately wished she didn’t. She screamed. There was a dead girl in her early 20’s.