Philip's Barber Shop

This place is always full, I couldn’t understand why there wasn’t anyone waiting for the barber today. There didn’t seem to be anyone even around this afternoon. I rang the bell on the counter and waited.

“Hello! Hey Phillip, its Bill, I need my ears lowered.” I yelled out. No answers. What’s going on? I walk over the barber chairs. Save for the chairs and supplies the room was empty. In the far back left corner there was a door. It was closed like it normally was. I had never been behind it but I knew where it headed. The break room, I guess, I don’t know if they called it that but it’s where they kept their personal belongings. I made my way back toward the room and crack the door ajar to peek inside. I pushed the door open and poked my head inside.

Nothing. What is going on?

“This is your last chance to come or else I’m going across the street. To that one big place you’re always moaning about.” I said to evidently no one.

“NOOOOOOOO!” I heard a voice shrill from the back of the room, and then without warning the barber, an older man by the name of Phillip came rushing towards me with a pair of scissors.

I hollered out for him to stop but not before he gashed my hand with the scissors. I stepped back and grab my hand. What in the world was that all about? I looked at the open door to see Phillip standing before me, crazy eyed holding the scissors so they would make a perfect stabbing weapon.

“Come on now. I’m just here for a haircut.” I hold my hands up showing that I pose no danger. The blood drips down from my hand into a small oval pool on the floor below me.

The barber rushes and I feel the scissor enter my right side just below my rib cage. I scream out in a painful cry for reasoning. Phillip pulls the scissors out of my side and I feel them jab into me once again. Phillip steps away from and I look down at my bloody torso.

“What are you doing?” I ask, looking around for anything I can use as a weapon. I slowly back my way to one of the counters holding all the combs and trimmers.

“You’re not going across the street for a haircut.” Phillip said with wildness in his voice.

“Phillip, I came here for a haircut, I didn’t want to go across the street.”

“Well, you’ll get your haircut here from now on. You won’t be able to go anywhere else.” Phillip rushed me again. I grabbed a cup full of that blue stuff that disinfects the combs and threw it his face. He screamed but not before stabbing me over and over again. I coughed up a wad of blood as I tried to fight Phillip but it was no use. I had lost too much blood. I was in too much pain. I tried pushing him back one last time but the strength gave out in my arm. I screamed in as Phillip pushed the scissors in my chest. Phillip pulled the scissors and stabbed me over and over as my life slipped away from me.
***
Phillip stood behind the chair cutting hair away when the police rushed in the shop. To their horror they found Bill’s severed head sitting atop of boxes, getting a haircut.