It had only been what felt like several years of standby before my curly haired head succeeded in the daunting task of getting a haircut. Leaving the house was difficult on its own, however nothing could compare to the trauma of approaching the old hag seated right behind the reception desk. If it hadn’t been for the name badge, the deathly pale woman would have easily been mistaken for a demonic force

            Having been lead to an adjacent seat, I remained obedient to the woman and what she instructed me to do regardless of the ceaseless feeling of scepticism. I sat there momentarily, as she continued to stare holes into me from behind the mirror. At the time I could’ve sworn to have seen equipment not to be used by hairdressers let alone an average citizen, however without sufficient evidence, nothing was to be done. 

             As the tugging of hair lingered on for several centuries longer, the less human the woman appeared. I sat there for a while longer awaiting for the completion of the supposed "haircut", however to no success in the nearing hour. The minute the human-devil had lifted the comb from my head and planted back into its rightful place, I managed to escape and get back to the safety of home.