An Unjust Punishment

         There was once a girl who had beautiful, long brown hair that she liked to braid and she liked when her mother curled it. When her hair was all curly she put on her tiara and yellow dress and her mother’s red lipstick and then she visited with her fairy godmother and she ruled the world and she danced with her prince charming, all in the space of one afternoon. She had a wild imagination and a head full of lovely thoughts.

            She was a 6 year old girl who had everything new happening to her. She started first grade in August, where she got to eat lunch at school, earn countless amounts of gold stars, and soak up as much knowledge about the world as she thought was possible. She lost her first tooth in September. She was excited beyond belief. She ran into her parents’ room around 7:00 at night clutching her tooth with her eyes gleaming asking them all about the tooth fairy. In November she became an older sister to her adorable baby brother. When she got to hold him for the very first time she couldn’t imagine a better feeling. She couldn’t wait until he was older because then she could teach him how to swing on the swings and do front flips on the tramp. In January her daddy took her skiing for the first time. They only went down the bunny hills, but she could never explain the amounts of adrenaline she felt coursing through her veins, it was the most exhilarated she had ever felt in her short 6 years of life. On March 4, 3 weeks before her seventh birthday, she was diagnosed with cancer. 

            She didn’t understand what was going on. She didn’t know why she had to get all the shots or why the bruises she got when she fell down won’t go away. She doesn’t understand why she is going to the doctor’s office multiple times a week. All she knows is that her parents are scared and her mom cries late at night when she thinks everyone else is asleep. All she knows is that when she was braiding her hair for school, a huge clump came out. And that was just the beginning, her hair came out in the shower, and at night, and when the boy she had a crush on pulled on the ends of it.

            She ran to her mom and dad around 7:00, clutching the last of her hair in both hands with tears streaming down her face. She sat on her father’s lap while he rocked her and her mother held her tight. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she knew that the kids at school were mean because she looked different now. She didn’t understand why this was happening to her, but it felt like a rather unjust punishment to receive for always complimenting her friend’s clothes and for thanking the crossing guard everyday as she walked home from school.

This is for write club, but on a personal note this girl is the reason I donated my hair because even though she might not exist, thousands of little children like her do live.