Juliette drags the brush through her hair you have to brush it at least one hundred times her mother had said years ago and say a prayer each time you get it through and maybe God will bless you and as she sits and brushes her hair she remembers her mother standing over her when she was a child and the hair was as long then as it is now and oh God she says how I hated it the knots and tangles and the number of times I used to cry each time she pauses in front of the mirror the brush held mid air sometimes when she brushes her hair and stares in the mirror she sees him there looking at her as he did back then watching her every move his dark eyes greedily drinking her in and once he placed his hands around her waist and kissed her neck how she cringed his spittle still there her uncle his breath his hands touching always when she was alone and once when undressing he came in and stared and said he thought she was becoming a beautiful young girl now she brushes her hair again the brush stiff and heavy gripped in her hand and as she stares into the mirror heavy with times and care she thinks she sees him still staring still there.