<p>The Clippers of Death</p>
<pre><code>I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just finished watching the latest episode of Sesame Street, when my parents marched out of their room and told me I was getting a haircut. As I was still very young, I had zero idea of what was ahead of me. I was aware that it was a place that made your hair shorter, but how that happened, was a mystery to me.
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<p>The car stopped. The seatbelts clicked. My door swung open. I had arrived. The moment of arrival was the most nerve-racking thing in my entire life. I had no clue what was ahead of me, what went on inside the double doors, and if the haircut would hurt or not. My heart was beating a thousand miles an hour and as I took the dreaded walk to the street corner, I felt like I was going to faint.
The building was a quaint little place, with one window, and one enormous set of double doors. The doors were completely out of proportion to the size of the building, which added to the confusion swarming around my brain. To make matters worse, the facade was jet black, with red letters painted across the top that I could not read. For all I knew it could have said You will Die. My parents noticed my apprehensiveness and tried to comfort me, but I refused their help. I was in my own little world, and there was no escaping. I was stuck in a state of shock and nervousness. The walk to the building felt like an eternity, but we had finally arrived at the gate of hell, and conveniently, a lady dressed in black and red was awaiting our arrival.<br>
Upon opening the door I stopped dead in my tracks, and began to cry. Nothing mattered anymore. I was done with trying to be brave and impress my parents; it was not worth it. Without thinking twice I ran for the exit only to be swooped from my feet by my Dad. He tried doing that cheesy rocking thing but I knew what he was doing. Every time he does this something bad always seems to follow. Whether it be falling off my bike, almost drowning, or going 50 mph downhill in a stroller, nothing good had ever happened following one of these comforting sessions. He tries to comfort me beforehand because he knows that I am in for a scare or pain. I desperately tried to escape his clutches, but it was too late. I heard the evil lady call my name. I saw my life flash before my eyes as I walked like a zombie toward the seat of death. At that moment, I thought that my life was going to end as a result of a haircut.
The lady who was going to be foregoing the execution was the closest thing to a witch I had ever seen. Her nails could have been used to climb a tree, and her nose was so big that I confused it for a tumor. Her voice was crackly, and she walked with a weird limp that only comes with being a witch. All I could think about was being a part of her stew later that night, along with the other unfortunate people who were forced into getting a haircut.<br>
Right before reaching my deathbed, I found my savior; the bathroom. I quickly screamed out to my parents of my urgent need to go to the bathroom, and I sprinted towards my escape. I flung the door open, quickly locked it behind me, and took a seat on the grossest looking toilet known to man. I was safe for the time being, but I had no plans for the future. I looked around to see what might come in handy, and the first thing that caught my eye was a small window by the sink. I dashed to it and my heart sank. It was locked. I sat down on the toilet again, and my next decision changed my life. I decided that I needed to face my fears and be brave. I did not want to think of myself as a coward who was too scared to get a haircut. I walked confidently out of the bathroom, only to become filled with fear once again.
I walked nervously back to my seat, sat down, and awaited my death. I heard the buzzing of a razor coming closer and closer to my head. The moment was coming. As soon as the razor came in contact with my head, I knew I was a goner. I felt the razor touch my scalp and I screamed out at the top of my lungs. Then I realized something. It did not hurt. I had just survived the cut of a razor, and it didnt even hurt! I began to laugh hysterically and my parents and the haircutter had no choice but to join in. I couldnt stop giggling for the remainder of the haircut, and when it was finally over, I didnt even want to get up. However, the sight of a blue raspberry lollipop lifted me off my seat and towards the exit. As we walked back towards the car I looked back at the building and realized that it was painted white.
This was one of the most important moments of my life. I learned that it is important to face your fears with confidence, and that you cant tell what something will be like until you try it. From this haircut I became a more courageous person, and have gained much more confidence in trying new things.</p>