Lost Titles

Ebony Curls

(Not edited, this is the very first draft)

Keshika was about to get the parting just right when a loud crash resonated through the walls of her room, causing the comb to slip from her fingers and clatter onto the floor. Her brown eyes darted towards the door and her fingers towards the bald patch on the crown of her head.

Outside, the yelling ensued, growing louder with every hateful word spoken. Keshika wondered what had angered her father this time as she twisted a coarse strand of her ebony hair around her forefinger.

Perhaps it was the new job her mom had been hired for. Or perhaps dad had found out about the C she had received in Biology. Had he? But the teacher had promised to let her take the make-up test tomorrow.

The pressure on her scalp grew.

Another crash resounded. This time it was of a vase being thrown at the wall. Keshika's grip tightened and her fingers became unforgiving. Her ears strained and eyes narrowed but her mind remained unfocused. It kept wandering back to when she was ten and everything was perfect.

"What changed in the last six years, mom and dad?" she mumbled, wiping the mist from her eyes and plucking the thick strand off her scalp.

"Stop, please!" She heard her mother beg and then the unmistakable crack of her father's palm connecting with her mother's cheek. A loud thud followed and Keshika knew her mother had hit the floor. She knew what was coming next.

Her fingers grew rapid in coiling the raven locks around them.

The clamour outside was echoing in her head until it was replaced by a discordant buzzing in her ears. Like that of a mosquito – maddening. One that provoked you, antagonised you. A feeling Keshika was familiar with. It always came accompanied by an irresistible itch, a need she couldn't shake off. And it went leaving relief and regret in its wake. The relief was fleeting and the regret everlasting.

Keshika sat there for a long time, twisting and pulling at her knotted curls. Long after the silence had overtaken the house. Long after her parents had retired to their separate rooms.

Eventually, her fingers halted and she turned to the mirror again. With trembling hands, she reworked the parting of her hair to cover the widened bald patch. She then gathered the fallen, lifeless strands into her palms. A quiet sob broke through her lips and a tear slipped from her eye. It landed on the tufts of hair but was powerless to revive them.

Keshika's eyes met the brown pair reflected back at her and she croaked, "I promised myself that I wouldn't ever do this again. I promised!"