Hair Cutz

1. The beginning

I put my extraordinarily long hair into a messy bun and  threw on an oversized plain black t-shirt and a hoodie.  My hair is never easy to handle (much like myself) as it flows way past my knees and brushes against the floor. I take a look at myself in the mirror staring at my bright green orbs which remind me of my dead relatives. I sigh and walk downstairs leaving the house without breakfast. After all , the only options in my cupboards are dried up frubes or stale twinkies.

As I walk down the cracked pavement my eyes register my surroundings. The richer people in society walk swiftly along with their servants holding their hair up behind them. The poorer however struggle to travel as they constantly have to heave their hair up and drag it down the path. The pain of stepping on it causes far less pain than having a hair cut.
Hair cuts never used to be painful, at least that was what I was told. It was only after the events of September 20th 2019 that it all changed.
People could no longer cut their hair without feeling excruciating pain like no other. Rumours say that the raid of Area 51 released toxic chemicals into the atmosphere causing hair cuts to be a problem - however, these are just rumours, rumours that we all try to ignore.
I almost miss my destination, lost in my own thoughts. Sighing heavily I make my way into the college preparing myself to endure the lecture of the missing Kpop boys of 2020. No one knows where they went or why they disappeared. People say it was just distraction from the hair cut epidemic but no one knows for sure. I doubt they ever will.
As I turn round the corner, deep in thought, I crash right into someone causing both our photo books to scatter all over the floor. Feeling my face turn a bright shade of red I hastily bend down to pick them up, reaching for my Jimin photo card first. In my panic I didn't look up.  I didn't notice. I didn't see that he was as bold as a bowling ball. Completely.
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