The Reality Institute

The Headwearer by Michael Molitch-Hou

On a night much like tonight, a woman by the name of Julie Andrews discovered that she had the ability to do something that no other person could do. The catch was, though, that she had to kill in order to do it. It was a relatively painless procedure for her as she was the one doing the killing, but those that she damaged experienced brief moments of excruciating pain. Julie Andrews had the ability to wear heads.

It was not Halloween when she first found out she could wear heads. It was the summertime. It was a beautiful night, much like tonight in fact. The sun had just gone down and people were around walking their loved ones and dogs. She hummed a little song, while walking along on the beaten path in the park. A young couple was kissing on a bench to her left, in a corner in the dark, when, for no reason apparent to her, Julie ripped the head off of the young woman. Of course, the man ran in horror while Julie held the head of his beloved in her hands.

There was something about it that made Julie feel good, though the impulse to inflict such violence upon an undeserving stranger disturbed her greatly.

“Such violence in the world,” said Julie down to the head. She shook coldly at what had happened.
Stretching the skin at the base of the neck, Julie pulled the girl’s head over her own, giving her the appearance of the person she had just murdered. It felt comfortable, constraining her own, larger, head within the frame of the new one. Instead of the locks of blonde she once had against the pale Norwegian complexion, she now had light curls of brown against darker Salvadorian skin. And there was no longer any sign of the deed that Julie had done.

Her new head left her with a sense of innocence that she had known when she was young and in love. She tousled her hair and walked on gingerly.

The news reports showed the glamor photos of the dead and shocking interviews with her fiancé. The sketch artist had drawn an accurate picture of Julie Andrews, the famous actress from The Sound of Music.

The deaths rolled in as Julie tried on head after human head, desperately attempting to fulfill some strange desire. She had at various times looked like a bearded Santa Claus, the President of the United States, and legendary rock diva Paula Noforia all with the body of a forty year old woman. But, she grew tired of each one, grew tired of being joyful, thick-skulled, and conceited. It was odd to see a headwearer walking around killing people and taking their heads. And every time, it made Julie feel dreadfully sad. So sad that the least she could do was to wear the person’s head over her own as a sort of memorial to the deceased.stock-photo-julie-andrews-at-the-walt-disney-concert-hall-th-anniversary-celebration-walt-disney-concert-157576310

One time, she was crying through the eyes of a clown. The tears fell onto her dress, a yellow number with green flowers she had found at a thrift store for forty-five dollars. A little girl, resembling Julie as a child, approached her. The little girl asked,

“What’s the matter, you horrible clown?”

Julie was shocked at the little girl’s tactlessness, but saw that the girl had sincere concern on her face. She responded,

“No matter how many human heads I tear off, I wear them out! These human heads can never satisfy! I feel terrible.”

“I understand perfectly,” said the little girl and put her arm around the clown. Julie sobbed into the little girl’s shoulder, getting face paint all over the place. “Are you going to kill me?”

“What?” Julie asked shocked and offended, “Of course not! A little girl? That would be frightful indeed.”

“Good. Because, as you said, it’s not going to do you any good.”

“What should I do? Please, tell me, little girl.”

“My mother always told me that the tough decisions are always left up to you, no one can decide them for you.”

This Julie pondered for a while. So long, in fact, that the little girl got up and left, deciding that her job was done. And the wind blew the sound of the traffic past her. A school was being let out not too far away. A rambunctious yellow Labrador Retriever trotted past after its owner. Without second thought, Julie tore the dog’s head off and placed it over her own, trapping the clown beneath it.
It was a fresh outlook. Less of the concern that she had experienced with the previous human heads came with the Labrador’s head. It was carefree and naïve.

And with this, she felt little need to murder again. That is, until the day she strolled about the zoo.
Kids whined, parents sneezed, and vendors robbed. It was the sort of ordinary activity Julie needed while wearing her ordinary dog head. She realized, suddenly, that she hadn’t eaten in months and decided to eat some cotton candy when the Silverbacks caught her eye. These gorillas carried with them a strength Julie had not seen much of in her life. As you may have guessed, she did what she always did in recent days and began trying on the heads of animals at the zoo. There were the pandas, which appealed to the child in her. There were the snakes, whose wrath was beyond compare. There was even a selection of insects in the Insect Barn that had a certain jou no se pas. But, after a careful exploration of the Kitty Cavern, Julie was completely and unceasingly taken with the head of a tiger. It filled Julie with some sense of honor and power to wear the proud stripes of a tiger, and, upon putting on the head, she suddenly felt relieved of the deaths of all of the previous victims. It was as though they had all led up to this momentous event in Julie’s life and that the pain was a necessary part of the process to create this beautiful creature. Here was a woman, graceful and sweet, with the head of a tiger.

A thought occurred.

“This ability. This power, I have. Why limit it to my own head? What could be more beautiful than the wings of an albatross?”

The journey to New Zealand was a long and arduous one, but well worth the difficulty. Her elegance allowed her to make travel arrangements very fluid. Her head kept her from too much danger. And, at this point, she only had to catch her prey.

So she did. And it was great.

Slowly, she removed the wings of the thing and pulled them tightly over her arms. It felt somewhat amazing to fly like she did. But it wasn’t until she replaced her torso that she was really flying.
With the head of a tiger, the wings of an albatross, the legs of a human, and the torso of an engine from a 1963 Chevy Nova, the god showered the people of Roseville, Minnesota with light and love. They worshiped her heavily and wept in her eternal glory. It was the closest thing to perfection that they had ever seen. Her likeness could be found in any home, nailed to walls above beds.
Julie Andrews felt finally satisfied.

And after three thousand years had passed, Julie looked down at her magnificent body. She did not know what had happened, whether it had all been a dream, a psychotic delusion, or a journey into an alternate universe, but her physical appearance had returned to normal and it didn’t feel normal to her. She didn’t know what she should feel, but she clung to the image of the immense god for the rest of her life, tugging on the heads of others from time to time and never succeeding in pulling them off to become that beautiful thing again.

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