I sat in front of the mirror, daring not to rise my eyes to see my reflection just yet. My mother sat behind me, combing through my long hair with her fingers, and sighed deeply. 

"Are you sure?" She asked me.

She had asked me the same question the whole summer, but I continued to nod my head. I was absolutely sure to cut my hair short.

I heard the first snip of the scissors, and when I looked down at my lap, a long strand of hair was already in my lap. I touched it, and held it in the palm of my hands as I examined it closely. Suddenly, I started to have flashbacks of the memories I had with him before things went downhill when I found out one day he wasn't true to me.

"Your long hair is the most prettiest I've seen. No other girl can beat it." He had said, his fingers lacing through my hair one breezy day at the park, and started to braid it perfectly, and I always wondered how he could braid so well.

I remember that one compliment made me feel loved for the first time, but it was only for a quick moment more when I saw him with another girl at a cafe, a few weeks afterwards, running his hand though her hair and saying the same thing towards her when he said it to me in the first place.

Then I realized how he knew how he could braid. 

I blinked, and I was back to reality.

"It's finished." My mother said, and I looked up at myself in the mirror.

I was almost unrecognizable, and I liked it that way.

Now I don't have the scent of his fingers running though my hair anymore. No more long hair for him, or anyone to braid it anymore. I began to touch the end of my hair strands, seeing it was truly short, and I began take a liking for it already.

I smirked at myself in the mirror, and sat up taller, feeling the confidence kick in.

It was me.

And I loved it very much.

My...

SHORT HAIR

Disclaimer: This story contains EXTREME cuteness, weirdness, and randomness overload in all sorts and some mild to high range of romantic themes. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Please enjoy :)