Her vermilion hair fell to the floor with every snip of the scissors. She kept her eyes shut tight. Etching the memory of the way her hair used to be. Tight curls fell past her shoulders.
She smiled to herself with the memory of running through a grassy field after her younger brother. His hair, the same color, shone brightly from the morning sun. Their mother called out for them to return home immediately. They looked up as the sunny sky quickly turned to darkness. She made it home. Her brother did not.
It was time to hide from death.
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