El Sombreron

Closing the door to her room, she let out a big unsightly yawn, arms over her head. She was tired, but the day had been a happy one and the joy and carried to even now. Letting out a small giggle to herself, she caught herself in the mirror and twirled around in a girlish fashion. Her dainty white night gown billowed, fluttering violently. Her long, waist-length hair fanned out and floated gently back over her shoulders when she finally stopped spinning and flopped onto her equally frilly bed.


He was enamoured with her. She was sure of it. And she delighted in the fact that her Mama and Papa knew nothing of it. He said that she was the most beautiful and he loved her and the way her long hair danced about her. It mesmerized him. And her Mama had said she was an ugly, impetuous girl just not two days ago. Her little sister was always more favored. But he had come to her instead, not the little brat for once. That would show her.

She fell asleep with his face in her mind. And dreamt that he came to her, gently caressing her hair and singing to her.

She woke up the next morning and found her hair was perfectly braided. But she could not undo it. She knew what he was now. And she could not let Mama see it. Her breath quickened. Papa would be ruined if anyone knew. No, no one can know.

Clawing at the braid she yanked and tugged at the spaces. Not a single strand fell out of place. She paused at her reflection in the mirror. She could see the fingerprints of the hands on the braid. It was an unnatural sheen. Her hands began to hurt from the pulling and her scalp began to bleed from the hair she pulled out. But the braid would not undo. She fumbled on her dresser for a scissor, a knife, anything.  In a quick stroke, she chopped the braid to the floor, her hair now a short, ragged boy's cut.

It fell to the floor. It was silent, only her heartbeat drumming in her ears. She stared at it as it slowly unbraided itself and crawled underneath her floorboards.

The idea for this story came from my Colombian co-worker, who told me about the legend of a mischievous little boy who plays with naughty children and has a sweet tooth for girls with waist length hair. If he saw a girl he liked, he would come in the middle of the night and braid the girl's hair. I based this version closer to El Sombreron, which was the closest thing I could find. Somehow, I was able to finish this hiccup in half and hour and I DID NOT EDIT OTL. And I suck at writing horror.