Short Stories

Button Eyes

"Fat."

"Hag."

"Ugly."

"Freak."

"Cow."

"Loser."

Words can hurt so much more than actions sometimes.  They crawl under your skin so that they can come back and rule your thoughts just before you go to sleep. You can tell yourself that you are perfect, but the insults will always linger in the back of your mind.

These words swirl in my head like a never ending storm. Constantly echoing, always bouncing off the walls of my skull, rattling my head so hard it's as if a sledgehammer was being used on my cranium. But if I'm always being heckled with, I should be used to it, right? No. These words are like daggers being plunged into soft flesh. You can't get used to that, not ever.

But I put on a smile, act as if these words do not shred me down to the core. I put on a mask...but this mask is starting to crack. I need a new one, smooth like new plastic and shimmering like a calm lake on a clear sunny morning. Yes, plastic...my only friend.

With plenty of paper to dish out, my parents don't bat an eye to my request. Not that they pay attention to anything else that I do. The drive is perilously lengthy, and the silence is as heavy as a ton. Time flies by during the preparations, and my vision darkens as they raise the scalpel.

My vision is obscured by a cloth when I come around. My body feels numb and the pounding in my head is the only sign that I am awake. When I sit up, I am greeted by a voice.

"Cecilia, you're awake. Are you ready to see the new you?"

My tongue feels as though it is super glued to the bottom of my mouth, so I simply nod in response. I hear the distant sound of the cloth shifting in place before it is slowly pulled back. Dark spots dance across my vision as the room's lights blind me abruptly. Once the spots fade away like a distant cloud, my eyes catch on a small handheld mirror that someone holds in front of me.

An unfamiliar girl stares back at me with similar eyes and hair. But that seems to be where the similarities cease to exist. She has a small, button nose, large, luscious lips, and skin as smooth as porcelain. I raised a hand to my cheek and she mimicked my motion. A tiny grin graced my lips, and I was captivated as the girl did the same.

"I love it." I whispered, and my reflection moved her lips in imitation, her voice as though lost in the wind.

...

Beauty is everything in this world. Perhaps I thought that this new mask would stop the hateful words. But they still follow me around like an old lover. How foolish I was to think that they'd like me if I change.

School, although different than before, still leaves me in a state of self pity and hate. I claw at my immaculate skin, tearing at my heart and mind in a desperate attempt to feel okay.

"She is such a whore."

"It's pitiful to see how hard she's trying to fit in."

"Oh look. It's 'Little Miss Perfect."

"Watch out. It's a human Barbie doll."

My back feels as though it has grown feeble and bruised by their hateful glares that pierce my soul and body. I am torn out of my thoughts when my shoulder collides with that of another. My head shoots up in fear, and my shaken eyes meet with those of which are filled with hatred.

"L-Lillian I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying att-" I sputtered in an attempt to apologize.

"Shut it, loser." She interrupted as her eyes finally landed on me.

"Well, look who we have here. Little miss Cecelia. How's the plastic life treatin' ya? Score any friends?" She asked, smacking her lips loudly as she blew a piece of gum.

"Oh, wait. You don't have any friends." She said, feigning shock and surprise. I turned my head down as her gaggle of girls laughed and cheered behind her, doing a fair impression of chimpanzees.

"Listen Cecilia." She said, poking my chest. "It's adorable seeing you try to be pretty. But drop the act. You're never going to be one of us." She said decisively before waltzing off, followed closely behind by her group.

All I wanted at that moment was to fall to my knees and ask God why I was like this. Why? When I had tried so hard to fit in? I could feel moisture gathering in my eyes, but I hastily blinked them away and forced myself to keep composure. I could break down later.

At home, I nearly burst into tears again.

"Oh honey, I think you might need another surgery. You're getting a little chubby again." My mother remarked, not even sparing me a glance.

I looked up in shock, my mouth forming a small 'o'.

"What the fuck?" I asked.

She lifted her head and gave me a look of disinterest. "What?"

"How can you just call your daughters appearance ugly and not bat an eye? It shouldn't matter how I look. I get enough shit at school. Why can't you just love me for who I am?" I seethed, my mask finally crumbling. "I can hear that from everyone else, but not you two." I said, my voice cracking.

"Oh darling, I'm just telling you so that you can better yourself."

I looked at her incredulously. "That's it. I'm not going to live my life pleasing others anymore. I am not going to be treated like a doll with button eyes!" I slammed my fist on the table before whirling away. I stomped away, tears brimming my eyes. There was a lot to do.