Every Little Hair

“Ugly thing!” I mumble to myself, as I look into the bathroom mirror. What do I see? A skinny boy preparing for his first day at a new school. I'm Marco Gonzalez; and I don’t like the way I look. I don’t like the way my glasses wobble on my face. I don’t like the way my face glows red with pimples. But what I hate most about myself is my long hair. When I lived in Spain, all the boys in my village had long hair. But ever since mum and I moved to Australia, I've only received dirty looks from other kids in the street.

As I stare deeper into the mirror, a thought occurs. Maybe I can hide my long hair by wearing a hat or something? No. No. No. Not a good idea at all. I begin to move my hair around into ponytails, buns and other stylish looks. They all are something that is not me. I am so angry at myself. I realise that my stupid hair can’t possibly stay on my head. I reach for the clippers so angrily that they slip out of my hand and land on the floor.

“Marco, time for school!” Mum yells impatiently.

I have no time! I quickly throw on a hat and meet mum at the car.

“That doesn’t look like you. Take the hat off.” Mum orders.

I don’t. Instead I sit in the back of the car with my arms crossed. Before I know it, mum is telling me to jump out of the car. It’s time to face the demons in front of me. Alone.

When the lunch bell rings, I choose to sit in a dark corner of the yard. Bad choice! A much taller group of boys grabs my hat and tosses it on the roof. They stand in a circle, point their fingers and laugh. I sprint back inside and burst into tears. All of a sudden, I sense a soft voice behind me.

“Um. Hi.” The voice mumbles.

I whip around, smearing the tears with my hand. I see a small boy standing in front of me. As my gaze lifts, I see that he has a head of red, frizzy hair.

“I’m Cormac.” He announces with a smile.

“Marco.” I reply.

“I like your hair. Very unique.” He adds.

Smiles creep up our faces and we share a moment. For the rest of the day, we chat to one another about how we were both nervous for school this morning and how we both fussed over our hair!

When I get home, I stare at myself once again in the mirror. What do I see? A confident boy after a fantastic first day at school. I love the way I look. I love the way my glasses bounce freely around my face. I love the way my face beams proudly with pimples. I love every bit of me. Every little hair.

FOLLOW US


25

Write4Fun.net was established in 1997, and since then we have successfully completed numerous short story and poetry competitions and publications.
We receive an overwhelming positive feedback each year from the teachers, parents and students who have involvement in these competitions and publications, and we will continue to strive to attain this level of excellence with each competition we hold.

KEEP IN TOUCH

Stay informed about the latest competitions, competition winners and latest news!