Allison James snuggled under her covers, her hair balled up at the top of her head in a tangled nest, that she would call a ponytail. She sniffled miserably, trying not to sneeze once again.
"Ally, are you okay?" Her best friend, Jenny Carson, asked. Jenny stayed a good 5 feet from Allison, afraid to catch what she had.
"No, I'm sick and miserable. When I'm sick, everything tastes like burnt toast, it's disgusting. And every time I sneeze, my tear ducts go woo! Crazy!" Allison cried, her lips pressing together into a tight line as she held back another sneeze. This time however, she wasn't able to stop it.
Like a clogged trumpet, Allison exploded.
Jenny jumped from the sudden noise.
"Geez Ally, talk about being loud," Jenny said skiddishly. She clutched at her chest, where her heart was.
"Okay Jenny, time to go. Allison needs her rest if she's going to get any better," Allison's mother called through the door.
Jenny got to her feet and smiled at Allison reassuringly, gave her a package wrapped in cloth, then slipped from the room.
Ally opened the package and smiled giddily, jumping from bed and going to her closet. She pulled a canvas from her closet, then frowned at the half-done painting.
"There's a hair in my painting," Ally mumbled to herself. She plucked the hair from the canvas and recoiled with disgust, flicking the hair away discreetly.
Ally slipped the contents of package onto her bed. Several paints, of different shades of yellows and oranges, were spread across her bed. Each still had the price tag on them.
Delicately, Ally picked up a tube of dark orange, and bright yellow, un-capped them, and put some of the sticky paint onto a pallet.
She began dabbing her paintbrush into the different colors and smeared them onto the canvas.
Several hours later, when Allison's mother came in to check on Ally, she saw the painting.
"Dandyloins," mused Allison's mother, gazing at the picture.
The next day, when Jenny came back, she stifled a laugh at Ally's hair, and gasped at the painting.
"Wow, that's so cool!" Shrieked the 14-year-old.
"I know right?" Ally replied, smirking at her work. Jenny pointed at something above Ally's head.
"Uh, Ally?"
"What is it Jenny?" Allison asked.
"You're hair." Jenny stood, gawking stupidly.
Allison's younger brother, of only 10, came into the room and leaned against the door frame, smiling at something.
"What's wrong with my hair?" Ally asked.
Jenny pointed behind Ally this time. When she did, she screamed like a banshee.
"Oh my gosh! That's so hairy!" Ally gripping at her hair, now shortened.
"Good thing you're sick. You wont have to show your face for a while at school." Jenny chuckled darkly.
"How could you! How could you just snip off my hair?!" Ally launched herself at her brother, missing him by a few inches.
"Well, you have to admit, shorter hair does look good on you," Jenny laughed.
"I cant believe him!" Ally shrieked, just about ready to cry and whine like a baby.
"I cant believe he would cut off your hair." Jenny said, controlling her giggles.
"What did you use?!" Allison snapped at her brother as he poked his head into the room.
"The bush cutters, shears." He laughed at his sister, who's hair he had cut the night before into a messy crop that was just below Allison's chin.
"You're dead," Ally whispered deadly.
Jenny left before she could get caught up in the brother-sister fight about to erupt within the James' house hold.
The End
