As I sat in my last class of the day I lightly tapped my pen top on my paper and stared at the board, waiting for the bell to ring. I looked at the clock to see I still had twenty minutes left of class. I could have sworn there was only ten minutes left like five minutes ago. The school clocks seem to play with your mind and always ran slower than the rest of the world. I heaved a sigh and refocused on the teacher. She was talking about how bad drugs are for you and that we shouldn’t take them. Health class has been the same thing since middle school. No one ever takes this class seriously; it’s just a marking period out of gym.

After what felt like a half an hour of lecturing the bell rang and I jumped out of my seat, anxious to get out of the classroom. As I walked to my locker someone walked up next to me and started talking about something. I gave all the impressions of my full attention while my mind drifted to what I had to get done today. I had the usual homework from math and physics. There was also a quiz tomorrow in history but that wasn’t too big of a deal. Oh, and I was getting my hair cut today. Finally, it’s starting to get in my eyes. I hate when it gets this long.

I stopped by my locker and dropped off my books, grabbing my jacket and holding the one notebook I used for everything. My textbooks were home somewhere, but I probably wasn’t doing my homework tonight. I never do. I should probably change that.

“Hey Matt, what’s up?” A kid I met the other day came up to my locker and I had a pretty typical conversation with him. It was interesting though, I always did love talking to new people. That’s the thing about new people; they always surprise you and add variety to your life. I try to meet as many different people as I can, it keeps life moving along.

We eventually said our goodbyes and I gave head nods and smiles to the people I knew as I walked down the hall and out the door. I started my walk down the parking lot to my car and got in the driver’s seat, tossing my notebook onto the passenger seat and putting the key in the ignition. My car turned on and music came blaring out of the speakers. I always forget to lower the volume before I get out of the car. Oh well, I like listening to it loud anyway, might as well have it start out like that.

I decided to go straight to the barber shop after school to get my hair cut so I wouldn’t have to worry about it closing before I got there. I parked in front and turned off my car, realizing afterwards that I had forgotten about the volume again. Oh well, I’m not going to turn my car on just to lower it. I’ll remember when I get back out.

I opened the door and a bell jingled, signaling my entrance. There was only one chair in the barber shop so I had to wait for the current customer to finish up. He was almost done so the wait couldn’t be too long. Besides, how could you expect them to have more that one chair? People rarely get haircuts. The tile floor was freshly scrubbed and a nice pure white. I always wondered why they would pick white in a barber shop.

Just before the man in the chair was finished getting his hair cut, his head exploded and he slumped to the floor. “Aw man, we got another one!” The barber exclaimed, and a guy came out of the back in no apparent hurry. Jerry, the barber, said to the man, “Bring him in the back and clean this up, would you?” He seemed annoyed and went in the back corner of the shop where there was a shower head coming from the ceiling and a drain in the ground. He turned the shower on by pulling a chain and the blood ran off the plastic suit covering his clothes.

“It’s that kind of day, huh?” I asked.

“Yeah, he’s the fifth one today!” Jerry said, irritated. “Don’t worry though; I’m sure you’ll be fine.” That’s what they say to everyone so I didn’t put much credit to it. It wasn’t a big deal. Everyone knew the risks of getting your hair cut.

Once the mess was cleaned up I was seated in the chair and Jerry walked up behind me, making eye contact through the mirror. “So, what would you like today?” He asked, referring to my hair.

“As short as you can make it without making me bald,” I said, which was the typical answer. People wanted to keep as much time in between haircuts as possible, which is understandable. Some haven’t gotten their hair cut since they were born, but these people are usually avoided by most. It’s kind of weird for anyone to have hair that long.

I was getting towards the end of my haircut, feeling confident that my head wasn’t going to explode. I shouldn’t have gotten so cocky, because shortly after I became sure I was safe my head was gone.

“Oh, come on!” Jerry thundered. How could I hear him if I was dead? I thought to myself. All I had was my sense of hearing, everything else was gone. Enough time passed where I thought I must have been brought into the back room where they bring the bodies.

“Is this one alive?” I heard the barber ask. He was talking to the guy who was there to take care of customers like me.

“Yeah, I think so. Let’s wait and find out,” The nameless man said. Time continued to pass and I heard the sound of another person getting their hair cut. They must have left me and are going to check on me later. But how am I alive? I mean, my head exploded. But I waited.

“Yup, he’s definitely alive,” the man said.

“Good, I’ve lost enough customers today for a whole week,” Jerry said.

Shortly after all of my senses came back I reached up to where my head should be to feel that my head was actually back on my shoulders. How odd.

“Hey kid, you alright?” I looked to see Jerry looking intently at me to see if there was anything wrong or if I was about to freak out.

“Yeah,” I said, looking back at him.

“Well alright. I’m going to need you to sign this then.” He pushed a small packet of paper to me.

“What is it?” I asked, flipping briefly through it.

“It’s a confidentiality contract. So you don’t go around telling people that you actually survived your head exploding when you got your hair cut. If you break it there will be serious consequences.” I could tell how serious it was by the tone of his voice. This was obviously nothing to joke around about.

“Well, alright,” I said, signing my name on the dotted line. “So does that mean there are other people who survive their head blowing up?”

“Yeah…” He said cautiously. He didn’t seem at liberty to say anything more so I didn’t ask any more questions. It was obvious he was telling the truth about other survivors by the stack of confidentiality contracts reaching high off the table.

“Okay, well, have a nice day,” I said, going to hand him the money for my haircut.

“No, no,” He said, shaking his head and holding up his hands. “If your head explodes, the hair cut is free. Store policy.”

“Oh, alright then,” I said, a smile appearing on my face. I casually walked through the barber shop and out the door, running through my list of things to do when I got home.