There was one other thing too that kept running through my mind, and even though it made the least sense of all it was stronger than all of the other reasons. Part of me… some HORRIBLE part of my mind… was actually entranced with the idea of shaving my head. I had, on more than one occasion, pulled my ponytail tight against my head to see what my unadorned head would look like, or sometimes I would wonder for minutes on end what it felt like when I saw clippers running over someone’s head. But was I really willing to risk my hair on these crazy visions and desires? My amazing, satiny, shining curtain of platinum silk? No way!
I started to get up, ready to protest this crazy idea and leave with my amazing mane of hair intact, but then something strange happened. I couldn’t will my body up, I almost felt like I wasn’t in control of myself, especially when I slowly put my hand on the others while my consciousness watched like an out of body experience.
“If I’m the first one to lose my hair, I’m going to kill you." I told Mary as the other girls burst out smiling.
