Bad Again

I smile at my daughter in the mirror and I take all of her hair to gather it on her back, thinking about how crazy it is that I made her. By accident, but still.

She looks so much like me, it’s crazy. She has my eyes, my hair and the same color of my skin. And if she really set someone on fire without feeling bad about it… maybe she got my fucked up brain, too.

If that’s the case, she needs me. She needs me so I can be her savior, enabler and best friend, like my own dad is to me.

“Do not move or I might cut your neck wide open,” I warn to make sure she’ll stay still. She does. Amy straightens her back and waits like a good girl while I start cutting the burnt hair, then carefully follow that line.

I’m cutting off the hair she’s had since she was born, but who cares? Hair grows.

A few minutes later, the haircut is done. Amy’s mouth drops open as she sees herself in the mirror with fully short hair for the first time, at chin length. I did an amazing job, it’s super straig