I hadn't told Camille about crucifixion. I didn't tell her that a person could last hours, or days, hanging from a cross. I didn't tell her that I wanted her to experience a crucifixion. I just went ahead and gave her the experience, hoping that her instinct would dictate her reaction.

She hanged from the beam for a while, letting her suffering take over, letting life leave her body slowly.

Her face expressed those feelings, first screaming in pain, then just moaning, then breathing heavily, then breathing slowly, just as it should be.

It was a process that I was curious about, one that I needed to experiment over and over again.

I was hoping that Camille was going to go on that road with me. It was going to be her via crucis, but it was going to be my inspiration, the fulfillment of fantasies and dreams.

But what was this experience going to mean to Camille?

I wasn't sure of that.