I took the coat out, and went to go hang it up when something fell out of the pocket. I quickly bent and picked it up, before noticing what it was, I was holding. I had just started my shift, after school, and didn't much of it, things fall out of pockets all the time. But then I processed what was in my hand.

"EW EW EW EW AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Jane ran over,

"What's wrong? What happened? Can you hear me, Anne?"

I was disgusted, mainly, but also a little scared.

"Eww, just go look on the floor by the racks."

She did, and after a little shriek came back and sat next to me.

"Is that a.."

"Shrunken head? Yeah, I think so."

"Gross. Go wash your hands."

I did so, and afterwards the two of us stood over the head, staring at it.

"What do we do?" Jane asked, looking at me.

"I don't know, maybe just put it back?"

"Well, I don't want to touch it."

"Neither do I."

So, we drew straws. I lost. I tried to pick it up, (with gloves on this time), by the hair, but it was so brittle that it just popped right off, and the head fell for a third time. Cue more shrieking from me and Jane.

"It touched my foot! Oh my God it touched my foot!"

"Shush I'm trying to pick it up!"

Me and Jane were both 17 and became friends after we were both hired to work here, so both of us were squeamish and willing to pass the gross jobs to the other one.

Eventually I put the head back, stuffing to mini hair pieces in their as well, and then ran into the bathroom and vomited. You didn't see that thing; it was all red and scabby, and old looking and brittle. That grossed me out more than the fact that it was SOMEONES DECAPITATED HEAD, (although that added to my disturbance).

I found Jane outside, smoking, and she handed me a cigarette. So, we both sat and smoked and talked about the head. She had some wild theories, like what if it was a witch doctors, and he needed it to cure someone. I told her witch doctors didn't exist, and she watched to much television. Her family had been one of the firsts to acquire one in color when they were invented, around the time Jane was 4, so she watched it a lot more than I did, henceforth her saying things about witch doctors and such.

"You know, Mrs. May's going to be back soon." She was our manager, and oftentimes left the place to us while she ran errands.

"Yeah? We can't tell her; she'll lose her mind. Especially when she finds out that I dropped it and lost the hair."

"Oh, yeah. Well maybe whoever took it out will come pick it up."

"Maybe."

We went back inside and returned to our work. It was quite easy, although we were both on edge waiting for whoever had that coat to come pick it up. Everyone who came in caught our attention, as we wondered and hoped to see the owner. After about two hours, around 5:30 PM, a woman came in hurriedly. She had wild black hair and pale skin, and she was short, with large wire frame glasses and piercing gray eyes. The most surprising thing though, was that she was young, only in her 20s or so. The coat itself was odd, it was cut in the fashion of the time, long, with buttons and warm looking, but it was a deep shade of purple, with fur on the neckline and bottom, and it matched the owners looks.

And then asked for her coat, and gave us the number of the now infamous, and creatively named, The Head Coat.

We both anxiously handed it to her, and she thanked us, paid, and before leaving, turned around and winked.

Strange.