This was the day I decided that you had been worn down enough physically.

Your body had given me every form of pleasure it could offer through pain.

Psychologically and mentally, you had made significant progress but it still wasn’t enough.

I would take you further.

Last night, I had given you a little clean water. Other than that, you were still hungry.

And you hadn’t slept again.

You hadn’t slept for the last two nights.

Needing sleep created the same feelings in you that hunger did.

Because of that, you felt trapped inside your self-disgust all night long. You had panic attacks over and over again.

Not being good enough made you feel guilty for every breath you took.

When I entered the room, I saw you exactly in the position where I had left you the day before.

As I approached you, you lowered your gaze to the floor.

You wanted to compensate for everything.

You wanted to find a way to make up for the guilt created by these needs of yours.

I grabbed you by the hair, sat down on the couch, and pulled you toward me.

With the scissors in my hand, I began cutting your hair.

I cut all of it.

Then I shaved what was left.

I was going to make sure that nothing of your old self remained.

You felt the hair falling onto your shoulders and onto the floor.

And it was as if you knew what you were supposed to do without me having to tell you.

It felt like you were experiencing a physical symbol of saying goodbye to everything that remained from before.

Each strand of hair falling to the ground represented something from your old life a memory, a habit, a pride, a desire, a person.

And all of them were being separated from you.

In their place, the hair of something that knew exactly what the sole purpose of its existence was would grow.

And as it grew, it would replace what was old.

As you thought about this, those strands of hair began to disturb you.

Their touch, their presence, started to make you uncomfortable.

You didn’t want anything left from your old life to exist, to be able to touch our world.

You began to feel impatient for this to end for me to finish, for you to be freed from them.

When it was over, you watched as I gathered all of your hair into a metal container.

I sat down on the couch.

You were positioned between my legs, your back resting against the couch, your legs extended on the floor.

I told you to spread your legs.

You did.

I placed the metal container filled with your hair in front of you.

I put headphones on you and started playing 4–7 Hz theta binaural tones.

Then I began giving you suggestions meant to take you into a deep trance.

My touch on your body, my tone of voice everything was calming you.

With every word you heard, you went deeper.

It felt like falling into a bottomless well, but the weightlessness of falling toward the deepest point relaxed you completely.

Your mind had been exhausted for days already.

You needed this relaxation.

You needed this trance.

That was why you progressed so easily.

I moved you into a catatonic state in a very short time.

Even I was surprised by how fast it happened.

I continued.

For hours, I kept you there.

During that time, everyone you had ever known, every memory from your past, began to turn into enemies to you.

Especially your past self.

You felt disgust toward who you used to be.

And I made sure that all of this accumulated onto the hair.

You could see it all there.

Inside that container.

All of your memories. All of your traumas. All of your friendships. All of your relationships. All of your thoughts. All of your feelings. All of them were there.

I taught you that all of them were disgusting and worthless things.

I carved this into your subconscious.

While I was saying these things, I frequently applied pressure to your throat.

You wanted to distance yourself from all of it.

You wanted to get rid of all of it.

I taught your subconscious, as sharply as possible, that your only salvation was pleasing me.

That your only salvation was obeying me.

I taught you that this already existed inside you.

I taught you that you needed to reach it.

I taught you that this was the only correct path.

There was a shade inside you.

I was its reflection in the real world.

You had to obey me in order to reach the purpose of your existence. You had no path outside of my control.

That shade was the only way your existence could have meaning, the only way to be freed from that disgusting, old life of yours.

You kept sinking deeper and deeper.

Your body temperature began to rise.

I asked you what your salvation was.

You answered in a weak voice.

"Obey the shade."

I smiled. It was a familiar sentence.

I asked again. You answered:

"My only salvation is obeying the shade."

As you said that, I took out a lighter and set the hair in the container on fire.

I made you watch as it burned.

As your past disappeared, as you obeyed the shade, I made you feel how you were being saved how you were becoming lighter.

I guided you into taking deep breaths.