The Hair

by Heather

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Every day I stand here. Choking in this weird smelling dried liquid. Every day as I am cleaned I pray that this fetid substance will be washed away once and for all but every day I come away looking clean but feeling worse knowing that all day long I will struggle to breathe again. I could rebel. I have seen the others resist before me. For a fleeting moment they have the satisfaction of vexing my master until once again they are squashed down by his mighty hand. Then we are all punished more brutally than before with a gelatinous matter that chokes us more and more and holds us down so we can’t even shift to try and breathe. I could rebel. But will I? No, I will not resist. I must obey my master.
Every day I follow my master wherever he goes. Having no choice of where I want to go. When I am afraid I cannot hide. I remain still and frightened trying not to panic. Often I am cut apart. I get hurt but I always come away cleaner. For a day I am able to breathe a little bit easier only to fall back into normal routine the next day with another dose of suffocating liquid and another 24 hours of struggling breaths until the next time when I hope I will be cleansed but I come away still dirty. I could let myself die. I have seen the others wither and fall then float away. I don’t know what comes after but it must be better than this. I could let myself die. But will I? No, I will not die. I must obey my master.
Every day I am cleaned on the outside once but today I was covered in more of the awful reeking substance that dries and clings to me. It is different this time somehow. It doesn’t smell the same. I am sure it must be different on the outside. I choke again. Hope is leaving me every day. Every time something new happens my hope returns to me only to be smashed once again. I continue to hope knowing that it is useless. But will I give up? No, I must obey my master.
Every day I feel myself growing. I grow slower than I would if I could breathe without obstruction but I am growing. It has been longer than the usual since I have been covered in that putrid substance. I am starting to hope, praying that I will not be crushed again. I am slowly able to breathe easier and easier. I am clipped often these days. Not cut so short as I used to be but slowly clipped off piece by piece. It becomes easier and easier to breathe. Today I am no longer covered in the suffocating matter that used to plague me. I can breathe freely. There is not a single obstruction. I could have given up. I have seen others give up before me. They fall away from us only to die, never to see the liberation. Would I have given up? No, I must obey my master. My beautiful master that I love dearly. The master that has repented from his awful ways of treating me and the others. That has finally given us the freedom to grow and breath at will. I must obey my master and I will continue to do so until the time comes when I fall away and another takes my place.

~fin~