Hair

She cut my hair
My beautiful hair
The smegging bitch has cut it all off
It wasn’t even my smegging fault and she still cut it off
I look...
Every time I catch sight of myself in a mirror, I feel like crying
I don’t even want to talk about how I look
I miss its weight, its impracticality, its feel, its... its everything
I’m too tall, I’m skinny
I look ill
I smegging hate it

It happened a few days after those heavy rains, when the other handmaids and I were waiting in attendance on Ulhurath up at the very top of the building. What used to be the monorail station platform up there has been crudely reengineered into some sort of lido, and our matriarch was enjoying a dip in the pool
Our duties were, as always, purely menial; we were just waiting in attention at the poolside, standing ready with outsized linen towels, while the obese cow wallowed in the inviting looking waters lapping at our feet (Don’t ask me how they managed to pump water all the way up there, I’ve no idea – All I can assume is that whips were involved somewhere in the process)

It was my first time up there, and I had to admit that the view out across the city from forty metres up was pretty spectacular; you can trace the curvilinear route the monorail used to take by following the station towers out across the city, from the part ruined departure terminal through into the dense jungle at the city limits and beyond

We had been waiting in the hot morning sunshine for perhaps around twenty minutes or so, and I found my mind wandering, wondering what uses I could find for the hypercapacitors that I had noticed studding the edge of the pool along the line that the old platform used to take
I suppose they were originally used as part of the rail system, but there are more than a few uses I could press them to in conjunction with the arc-lights they have around here...

My thoughts were interrupted by the fat old sow rising from the pool, her sagging breasts and pendulous gut swinging repugnantly as she emerged from the waters; Silwey and I hurrying to unfold towels to hand her as she thumped up the steps on her way to the cushion-scattered stone platform where refreshments had been laid out in the shade
“Jaddoo” she grunted at me as she seated herself amid the cushions with a contented sigh and motioned towards the corner of the platform where goblets and a tall brass decanter had been set out, containing the fermented juice drink the Haruk seem to like
“[[Yes Mistress]]” I nodded compliantly, and walked around from the other side of the platform to pour the bone idle bitch her drink, noticing with a lurch, as I approached, the black glass oblong laid flat on the plinth beside the decanter
I’ve no idea what Ulhurath was doing with it there, and I knew better than to even acknowledge the thing as I poured her, her drink; but there was absolutely no mistaking what was quite obviously a handheld computer!

Placing the decanter back down, I was dismayed as the device flickered on as my hand passed near it, the juddering and cracked screen displaying what appeared to be an ancient newscast with a youthful looking guy in military uniform
“...coming in detailing massive casualties in Southern Fernando’s, with upward of three million thought to have perished so far in this latest nanoswarm disaster”
“[[What is this!?]]” Ulhurath snarled, shifting her massive bulk across towards me with frightening speed
“[[I don’t know Mistress]]” I backed away slightly, shaking my head
“Efforts are continuing to construct the Mikkelsen-Rongstad Bridge generators which, the Ess-Four projections assure us, will render the swarms inert and enable the safe evacuation of the entire planet”
Ulhurath suddenly lunged at me, catching hold of one of my arms in her meaty grasp, and pulled me towards her, snaking her other hand upward into my hair
“[[Please...]]” I gabbled as she pushed my head down onto the plinth beside the handheld “[[I don’t...]]”
“[[You shouldn’t touch(?) (/ feel / hold?)]]” Ulhurath snarled in my ear, a huge knife suddenly in her other hand, which she pressed up against my cheek, the tip very near my eye
“[[I didn’t]]” I gasped
The newscast fritzed out as Ulhurath withdrew the knife from my cheek to slice the blade up through my hair, sawing through a handful near my temple and making me scream and try to fend her off; which resulted in a hammer-like blow to the side of my head, the pommel of the knife gashing my forehead and reminding me of my place
Subdued, I just laid there after that, weeping silently into my hands as the smegging vile bitch methodically hacked the rest of the hair from my head

I hadn’t cut it since my mum died
I was eight


Neewam comforted me later on
“[[She has your power / strength / force /(?) now]]” she murmured sadly as I sobbed uncontrollably in her arms


Like hell she has