HOME | DD

Description
Support the creation of DangerCurls on Patreon!
www.patreon.com/dangercurl

(or The Curse, part 14)

Tired and weak, Julie was determined. She quickly wound up the sheet of floor-length tresses in her arms, and while slipping her backpack on, wadded the great mass of her hair into it. She hoped she wasn't creating a big tangled knot that she would have to deal with later, but she knew the magic infused in it made it similar to Megan's, and would stay virtually tangle-free. Curse or not, magic hair was still pretty incredible.

Although several minutes late, she made it to English class in time to take her test. Although she hadn't had time to really study, what with the events of the last few days, she had read the entirety of Shakespeare's MacBeth, the text on which today's test was based. She did fairly well, what with her mind being elsewhere and her hair being crammed into a wad in her backpack. She even impressed herself with the job she did on the final essay question, discussing the themes of the play. Fate, free will, the supernatural, corrupt power, the difference between fantasy and reality...she had dealt with all of these things more than she had cared to of late, and found she had a lot to say.

As the final bell rang, she headed for the exit, and found the quickest way she could off the school grounds toward her home. It was at this point that the reality of the situation fully settled on her. She had failed her true test of the day, protecting her hair from whatever being it was that wanted it. She knew that she probably should be in Ms. Featherstone's office right now trying to figure out their next move, but she couldn't bear to face her right now. She felt overwhelmed with uncertainty about what to do, she was so tired, she just wanted to get some rest and get her head on straight. Even the thought of calling Megan and telling her what happened didn't seem all that appealing at the moment, either. Julie felt she had let her new friend down, as well.

Julie arrived home to an empty house. Her parents weren't home from work yet, and Julie was relieved to have a bit of solitude. In her room, she unloaded the bundle on her back and fell down onto her bed, letting the soft chocolate cascade of hair envelop her. She loved the feeling of being in this luxuriant coccoon, and at length she fell asleep with her arms folded around her, holding it close.

------------------------------------------------

After an hour she woke, a bit more refreshed, and pulled a lock away from her face. Her eyes immediately fell on a brush on her bedside table. Megan had given it to her as a gift, since Julie hadn't had much use for one until now. She sat up on her bed and gathered her hair in front of her. She marveled at its length, at least six feet. Running the brush through it, she was glad to be proven correct about the absence of tangles. It had been wadded up into a ball and slept on, but the brush ran through it as smoothly as air. The act of brushing was the most soothing thing she had experienced in the last few days, and she continued it for almost half an hour.

At length, she decided to have a little fun. She separated her hair into two halves, and spent the next several minutes making two glorious braids. Her fingers deftly wove the locks together as if she had had this hair all of her life. It felt so right, so natural. This was how it was meant to be! Finishing the second braid, she stood and admired her handiwork in the mirror. Not too shabby, if she did say so.

The smile on her face faded as a piercing tone hit the air. Her phone was ringing. Curious, she looked at the screen. It was Mr. Paxton from down the street. Oh no! she gasped, looking at the clock. What time was it?

She answered. "Hello, Mr. Paxton, I'm so sorry, I'm--"

"Julie, hello" a deep voice intoned. "Yeah, don't worry, we were running late anyway, but we're off now. We were just wondering where you were."

Julie smacked her forehead. She was supposed to babysit the Paxton boys today, and had completely forgot. But her hair...she did NOT want to answer any questions from the neighbors about it right now. "Um, yes, I -- I'm not really feeling well..."

She paused. That was certainly not the excuse she should be using. Barbara Paxton had been diagnosed with breast cancer a few weeks ago, and her husband was taking her in for another chemotherapy treatment. Right now. Julie couldn't leave them in the lurch, no matter what was going on with her hair. "You know what? It's just a little headache. I'll take an ibuprofen and be there in two minutes."

A sigh of relief emanated from the other end of the phone. "This means a lot to us, Julie. We're heading out the door right now, but the boys are just watching TV. Feel free to let yourself in. Dinner's in the fridge. Thanks!" He ended the call.

Julie tried to be annoyed, but she couldn't. She had to go and she couldn't complain. At least she wasn't the one going through chemo. She pictured her wonderful new hair falling out in clumps, and shuddered.

She clutched her braids for courage, and headed out the door.

Description
Support the creation of DangerCurls on Patreon!
www.patreon.com/dangercurl

(or The Curse, part 14)

Tired and weak, Julie was determined. She quickly wound up the sheet of floor-length tresses in her arms, and while slipping her backpack on, wadded the great mass of her hair into it. She hoped she wasn't creating a big tangled knot that she would have to deal with later, but she knew the magic infused in it made it similar to Megan's, and would stay virtually tangle-free. Curse or not, magic hair was still pretty incredible.

Although several minutes late, she made it to English class in time to take her test. Although she hadn't had time to really study, what with the events of the last few days, she had read the entirety of Shakespeare's MacBeth, the text on which today's test was based. She did fairly well, what with her mind being elsewhere and her hair being crammed into a wad in her backpack. She even impressed herself with the job she did on the final essay question, discussing the themes of the play. Fate, free will, the supernatural, corrupt power, the difference between fantasy and reality...she had dealt with all of these things more than she had cared to of late, and found she had a lot to say.

As the final bell rang, she headed for the exit, and found the quickest way she could off the school grounds toward her home. It was at this point that the reality of the situation fully settled on her. She had failed her true test of the day, protecting her hair from whatever being it was that wanted it. She knew that she probably should be in Ms. Featherstone's office right now trying to figure out their next move, but she couldn't bear to face her right now. She felt overwhelmed with uncertainty about what to do, she was so tired, she just wanted to get some rest and get her head on straight. Even the thought of calling Megan and telling her what happened didn't seem all that appealing at the moment, either. Julie felt she had let her new friend down, as well.

Julie arrived home to an empty house. Her parents weren't home from work yet, and Julie was relieved to have a bit of solitude. In her room, she unloaded the bundle on her back and fell down onto her bed, letting the soft chocolate cascade of hair envelop her. She loved the feeling of being in this luxuriant coccoon, and at length she fell asleep with her arms folded around her, holding it close.

------------------------------------------------

After an hour she woke, a bit more refreshed, and pulled a lock away from her face. Her eyes immediately fell on a brush on her bedside table. Megan had given it to her as a gift, since Julie hadn't had much use for one until now. She sat up on her bed and gathered her hair in front of her. She marveled at its length, at least six feet. Running the brush through it, she was glad to be proven correct about the absence of tangles. It had been wadded up into a ball and slept on, but the brush ran through it as smoothly as air. The act of brushing was the most soothing thing she had experienced in the last few days, and she continued it for almost half an hour.

At length, she decided to have a little fun. She separated her hair into two halves, and spent the next several minutes making two glorious braids. Her fingers deftly wove the locks together as if she had had this hair all of her life. It felt so right, so natural. This was how it was meant to be! Finishing the second braid, she stood and admired her handiwork in the mirror. Not too shabby, if she did say so.

The smile on her face faded as a piercing tone hit the air. Her phone was ringing. Curious, she looked at the screen. It was Mr. Paxton from down the street. Oh no! she gasped, looking at the clock. What time was it?

She answered. "Hello, Mr. Paxton, I'm so sorry, I'm--"

"Julie, hello" a deep voice intoned. "Yeah, don't worry, we were running late anyway, but we're off now. We were just wondering where you were."

Julie smacked her forehead. She was supposed to babysit the Paxton boys today, and had completely forgot. But her hair...she did NOT want to answer any questions from the neighbors about it right now. "Um, yes, I -- I'm not really feeling well..."

She paused. That was certainly not the excuse she should be using. Barbara Paxton had been diagnosed with breast cancer a few weeks ago, and her husband was taking her in for another chemotherapy treatment. Right now. Julie couldn't leave them in the lurch, no matter what was going on with her hair. "You know what? It's just a little headache. I'll take an ibuprofen and be there in two minutes."

A sigh of relief emanated from the other end of the phone. "This means a lot to us, Julie. We're heading out the door right now, but the boys are just watching TV. Feel free to let yourself in. Dinner's in the fridge. Thanks!" He ended the call.

Julie tried to be annoyed, but she couldn't. She had to go and she couldn't complain. At least she wasn't the one going through chemo. She pictured her wonderful new hair falling out in clumps, and shuddered.

She clutched her braids for courage, and headed out the door.