As I was moved from asylum to asylum; each giving me up for being such a rowdy patient, I gave up more and more hope. I had never had a true home. I had been a foster child my entire life… the life of switching friends and families was something I was accustomed to… I was used to trying to stay away from people and not get attached, for I would certainly leave them again. Until I met my dear friend Fred.

It was a cold fall morning as I stepped outside into the chilly, cloudy air. I looked up and took a deep breath. My last home didn't let me outside… I looked down at my bare feet on the grass below. It was soft… I wish I wouldn't have to leave again… I wish I could stay at a nice home like this. I looked up to see a tall, lanky young man with messy blond hair staring at me with a wide and curious grin. I stared back, a bit surprised that this man retained eye contact with me. Most of the patients here preferred to stay on their own as I did. But… He was different somehow. I slowly walked towards him, my blond ringlets bouncing across my shoulders with each step. He eyed my hair hungrily. "You're new here." He looked from my hair to my eyes, addressing me with that same, toothy grin.

"Yes." I answered emotionlessly. A conversation? That was more than I had been afforded by anyone else in the home. I slowly sat down on the same bench, still keeping distance from the young man.

"What is your name?" The man asked, his attention turning back towards my hair.

"Ann." I answered. "And yours?"

"Fred." He eyes flickered back towards mine. "It's quite the pleasure to meet you." He held out his hand and I looked at it, unsure of what to do. Slowly, he retracted it and looked up at the sky; I followed his lead. "Tell me… do you enjoy prose?" He asked me. I paused. An odd question…

"Yes." I answered blankly. "Why do you ask?"

"On days as grey and dull as this, I like to sit and think and hiss, about how much shaving hair I miss… And how I once was… naughty…" He recited. I looked over at him in curiosity. He looked back towards me with that same, plastered grin on his face. "Tell me, young lass, would you speak with me? It certainly would fill my heart with glee, to hear your voice sing poetry… And say things that are… naughty…" I paused and he eyed me closely, waiting for my response.

"My dear acquaintance I must confess, that when it comes to prose I am the best. I could win nearly any contest… for being very… naughty…" I finally replied. I saw his eyes glisten with excitement.

"I hope that we will be friends so soon. And maybe tomorrow afternoon, we could go and hum more rhyming tunes… and be wonderfully… naughty…" He scooted a bit closer, but I did not feel the need to scoot back.

"A fine proposal you have proposed. To purely back-and-forth in prose is a convention with I find repose… And also very… naughty…" He scooted closer again, his face a mere inches from mine. I had hated when people got too close… but this was different… He was different…

X-X-X-X-X

Later than night, after I had taken my pills and fallen asleep… the night-terrors came again. The same scenes and flashbacks… My true father taking me to the lake and leaving me there alone. I was there all night as the darkness crept in on me… Suffocating… Consuming… As I braced myself for the beasts that lurked nearby I closed my eyes… hearing a familiar voice. "Do not cry my little Ann, for I can keep you safe… I can! Within my arms you'll find your man… Who may be a little… naughty…" I awoke from my dream in a cold sweat, arousing my bunk mate who gave a loud snore before dozing back off.

"What…" I rubbed my head, getting out of bed and walking into the bathroom to splash could water on my face. "What happened?" I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was so pale… so colorless… so blank… I needed make-up so desperately. I curled my fist into a ball and threw it at the mirror, shattering the glass and waking my roommate.

"What did you do?!" She leapt out of bed and looked at the damage I had caused.

"It was an accident." I lied. "I'll clean it up…"

X-X-X-X-X

The next morning I woke up and went to breakfast, seeing Fred there picking at cold, lumpy porridge… that grin still plastered onto his face. "Good morning Fred." I said as I sat down with my bowl of gruel. "How did you sleep?"

"As per the usual." He shrugged. I understood that as meaning badly, as was my usual. "Did the night treat you well?" I lifted up my hand to show him the cuts where I had punched the mirror.

"I'm afraid not." I sighed. "I'm still getting acquainted to the home…"

"Ah, that may take a while… Would you like to see some of my favorite spots to sit and think?" He looked up at me, his eyes fixated on my locks once again.

"S-sure…" I murmured. Why was he so obsessed with my hair? We strode out of the dining hall and back into the gardens where he led me past rosebushes and topiaries towards a small pond filled with water-lilies. "It's certainly lovely here." I piped up.

"It is." Fred nodded, his eyes still fixated on my hair.

"If I may be so bold…" I stopped. "Why are you always staring at my hair?" I took a ringlet between my fingers and twiddled it slowly.

"I hear the ringing of a shaver's buzz, crossing back and forth across your fuzz. I see your hair and remember what I once was… A barber oh so… naughty…" He replied in prose. I think I was beginning to understand his mannerisms a bit better.

"I understand your plight my friend. You see I was an artist to an end. I'd see a face and lend it a hand. A beautician that was also… naughty…" I answered, finding the exchanging prose fun.

"Makeup?" He raised an eyebrow, breaking the cadence and rhyme. "How… interesting…"

"And hair…" I smirked. "Also interesting."

"Yes… I'm afraid I'm not allowed to touch it anymore…" He looked down at the ground, his grin still plastered on but his eyes hinting a tiny bit of sadness.

"What's the harm in touching it?" I stepped closer to him, holding the lock of hair I had been playing with up to him. "There's no harm to be done…"

"No harm…" He repeated, eyeing the ringlet hungrily. He slowly reached for it, grasping it between his spindly fingers gently and starting at it in awe.

"So lovely…" He near-whispered to himself.

"Th-thank you…" I watched him studying my hair as an artist would a blank canvas. However strange this young man was… he had a certain charm. "You flatter me."

"Not at all." He looked back up and gave another grin. "Please… let's head inside… It's getting a bit… chilly…"

X-X-X-X-X

Months later Fred and I had become inseparable. We ate every meal together and spent all of our leisure time either the in garden or library (a sad excuse for a library… but it had poetry which was enough for my new friend and I). However, as Christmas approached whispers floated through the halls about inmates being released for holidays. Fred and I did our best to stay away from being naughty so as to be deemed as 'sane' enough to send out on holiday. When the time did come, Fred and I said our goodbyes to go and visit our families and return in only a week's time.

When we returned after the holidays Fred and I met in the garden again, on the same old bench. His eyes grew wide as he saw the new ribbons I had gotten from my mother for Christmas, placed in my hair carefully. I knew I wanted to impress Fred with how beautiful I could make my hair, but wasn't certain why I felt that compulsion at the time. I sat down near my friend who watched my ringlets fall across my shoulders with gleeful fascination. "I brought a present for you…" I whispered, leaning over.

"How naughty…" His grin got even wider. "You know that's not allowed."

"I'm perfectly aware." I giggled. "But that doesn't mean I'm willing to listen."

"Well I suppose I shouldn't be scolding you… I'm guilty of the same. Come down to the boiler room and I'll show you what I have in store." I nodded, getting up and clutching his small gift to my chest carefully. As we strode through the asylum and snuck into the boiler-room, I felt a certain giddiness I hadn't in a long time… Like playing with a long-time childhood friend… At the base of the stairs Fred stopped and turned to me, producing a small, wrapped box from his coat pocket. "Here." He handed it to me graciously. "Merry Christmas…"

"Oh kind Fred." I smiled. "And here is your gift…" I handed him the small box which he took carefully, unwrapping it meticulously so as not to tear the paper. I did the same, slowly unwrapping the box and opening it to have my eyes widen with surprise and glee. Why… it was makeup! Beautiful shades of white and purple and blue and red… All mine to paint with… He pulled the small electric razor from the box and his grin curled into one I had never seen wider. He turned it on, watching curiously as the instrument buzzed back and forth in his hand.

"A perfect gift for this holiday. And if you'll allow me to ask if I may, ask you if I may mold your hair like clay… For I am feeling… naughty…" He took a step towards me with the razor, hungry gaze fixated on my locks.

"My dear friend Fred, it would be an honor. It would be wonderful to be your fawner. So buzz away and make yourself calmer… Indulge in being… naughty…" I took the new compact and powder Fred had given me and opened it, the tiny mirror revealing him as he stepped behind me and looked up and down my curly locks with such excitement I thought he would explode.

"Cut and trim and shave and mold, soon your ringlets and curls of gold, will be a sight beheld; behold! Something so deliciously… naughty…" I began to apply copious amount of powder to my face as I watched Fred in the mirror, tracing the razor against my head gently; the first of my hair falling to the floor as light as a feather. He stared down at the morsel and his eyes grew wide with sheer bliss.

"With powder white and blush so pink. I will become beautiful once again I think… And be brought to the very brink… of being extra… naughty…" I applied said blush to my stark-white cheeks, still keeping an eye on Fred's face as he continued to chop away at my hair.

"I must tell you the truth my sweet… This isn't my first shaving meet. You see I had a rather girlish treat… Long ago when I was… naughty…" His eyes darkened and his hands paused as I assumed he remembered a past lover. I stopped applying my mascara and stared at Fred directly through the mirror.

"My dear friend Fred, do not be sad. This girl must have thought of you very bad. But you see, I think you're rad…" I paused as his eyes darted towards mine in the mirror. "For being oh so naughty…" He shaved off the last of my hair and I closed my compact, turning towards him.

"Such a lovely girl." He grinned.

"Thank you Fred, for making me well again." I replied. As we began to lean closer together the door to the boiler-room opened, shining a bright light that blinded my friend and I.

"What are you two doing?!" I heard the nurse gasp. "D-Doctor! Doctor!" She called for help. I turned towards my friend who gave a dismissive shrug.

"Hopefully I'll see you soon. Released from your cushy, plushy tomb. And when I think of you my heart shall swoon… Remembering us being naughty…" Two burly caretakers rushed down the steps and grabbed Fred and I, pulling us towards two containment cells on the opposite end of a long hallway.

"See you soon my dear friend Fred!" I called as they pushed my inside of the white, padded room, beginning to fasten me with a straight jacket.

"I count on it, little Ann." He replied as both of our doors were shut and locked.