She’d been known for her wavy blonde locks all her life. Her hair attracted the envy of her friends, the wrath of jealous bullies, but more importantly the most handsome boys. When boyfriends ran their fingers through it, tilting her face towards the sun, they might have been Midas, for it turned golden.
But now it had to go. Someone else wanted it and she was powerless to resist.
She stood watching it fall around her, her head yanked left and then right, forward and then back.
She was pushed onwards, an outfit and yellow star thrust into her hands.