“Are you ready?”

“Yah, let’s do it.”
I was bending over the sink anticipating the vibration of the razor. My hairs were screaming bloody murder; trying to tell me what would happen if I let the next few events proceed. But I couldn’t hear them. My dad started the razor and it sounded like bees were flying through my ears. I felt the razor touch ground on my head and saw in the mirror the innocent, little civilians of Peter’s Head get chopped up. That was just the beginning of a nightmare that I would live for one long, long day. About a year and a half ago I let this catastrophe commence and it has haunted my life ever since.

As I went to bed that night I dreamt of school the next day, how I would be ridiculed and tormented for my almost clean-shaven head.

I woke up with happiness and joy in my heart. The last day of school was a wonderful occasion with summer just around the corner. I got out of bed, put on my clothes, and walked out of my room. Immediately I saw William looking at me like I was a unicorn, except in my case, with no hair. I suddenly remembered the… thing… that happened last night. My heart dropped like a fly ball coming down to an outfielder as the memories flashed in my eyes.

“Dude-"

“I know,” I replied.

“What are you going’ to do about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You could just wear a hat,” he said.

“That’s genius!” I exclaimed.
I got my hat and prepared for school.

The first block was not as I expected. We watched a movie in Language Arts, I think it was The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, and no one asked me to take off my hat. That was a big relief. After LA we all went to chapel, which was good because no one would pay any attention to me. I went and sat in the back where I would be hidden from the horrific words of “Peter, please take your hat off?”

“What?” I said.

“Peter, please take off your hat? It is disrespectful.”

My heart stopped as I contemplated jumping out the window.

“Peter?” Mr. Snow said impatiently.
I should have jumped.

I slid off the warm, woolen hat as slooooooowly as I could. The teacher’s eyes gasped in delight.

“Whoa, you’re almost as bald as me!”
I slumped in my chair, as far as possible. I wasn’t paying any attention to what pastor Lisa was saying, because I was scanning the room for people who looked at me. A couple of times William would look back at me and give me the look of I’m sorry. A few minutes had passed, and only a couple of sixth graders were going to have nightmares for the rest of our lives. And then as if God were trying to smite me, Pastor Lisa said, “Alright everybody, come on up for Communion.”

As I watched people go up and get Communion I studied ways of hiding my head but I concluded with none. The row in front of me got up, and so did I. I walked in the line, nearing the front and as I did I looked back and saw all of the 8th, the 7th, and the 6th, graders gawking at me. I swear even Ms. Katz stopped playing her guitar. I got the bread and wine and as I walked back to my seat, my face as red as a tomato, everyone’s eyes followed me. I felt like some animal in a zoo that all the kids were pointing at it. Chapel ended and that’s when the interrogation commenced. All the what’s, when’s, how’s and why’s were asked and I had to answer them frequently.
After about two more hours, my dad came to pick me up to go on a camping trip. I was so glad to leave the entire nuisance that my peers were giving me. As we drove, I told my dad the story of the school day and I was soon to realize the nuisance followed me for that four-hour drive. From this incident I learned two important things, one, wigs are always an option and two, never let my dad get within 10 feet, with a razor or scissors in his hands.