For the Record (Salvis)

Travis

"Sally Face is a fucking dork." I spat at my friend Phillip, the kid who nearly got banned from my church after taking a heavy gulp of the Communion wine during the serving of the Eucharist. He sighs as he takes a bite of his sandwich. With his mouth still full, he talks like a child. "Jesus Christ, Travis. Do you ever shut up about Sal?" He rests his head in his hand as he takes another bite of his sandwich. I cough. "Im just stating the obvious, he's a freak. Have you seen him in math class? That faggot answers every damn question he can. Teachers pet." He rolls his eyes and flops his sandwich to the side with his hand. "At least he's good at math, Travis."

"If he's so "smart" then he should at least be able to look decent." I cross my arms in defense. With all of that hair, you'd think he'd be able to do something with it other than put it in pigtails like a fucking toddler. "Speaking of looks, what the hell happened to your eye?" He squints his eyes at me and I look away. I take a deep breath before I speak. "Nothing important, I just messed up at home again." I look down at the ground. "Seriously dude, again? I-" I cut him off before he can finish his sentence.

"Stop." I look back up at him and furrow my brows. "Travis, I'm starting to get like- actually worried."He tries to stand up from his seat but I scoff. "Whatever. I'll see you on Sunday." I hastily scoot out of my chair and walk out of the cafeteria and into the bathroom. The noise from the outside still lingering in my ears.

....

Sally Face. Sal Fisher. Freak. That stupid blue hair. His stupid eyes. The scars down his neck. He's disgusting. Just the thought of him makes my face grow hot with anger. I take out my crumpled up church fliers and look at the fine print. "All are Welcome." I take time to think about that. Those three words. Father ordered me to pass them out to everyone, by hand. But, I think I'll just stick with shoving them in their lockers, giving them by hand is pointless. It's not like anyone even reads them, ninety percent of the time i'll find them crushed up into a ball in the trashcan. Weirdly enough, unlike everyone else that I handed them to, that faggot thanked me and put it in his folder. His absurdly neat folder.

Why am I still even fucking thinking about him?

The first time I saw him, I thought he was a girl. Which serves the freak right, for looking like one. How was I supposed to even tell with that freaky mask covering up his face?

The door to the bathroom opens mid thought and I find myself holding my breath. Why in Gods name am I holding my breath? I hear a raspy voice and I see red sneakers from under the stall. "My eye fell out again..shit." I hear a soft click then a snap, the sneakers lifting up off the ground, the person looking into the mirror. I feel the urge to hold my breath again after realizing who it is. The bell rings and I'm compelled to stay in the stall but I don't. The familiar click of the door opening sounds through the restroom, and I'm met face to face with Sal fucking Fisher. Without his stupid mask.

His face is distorted and torn, his in tact eye is wide with surprise, his nose is practically missing, an evident scar over his brow and his teeth are shown through meshed and ripped skin. Before I can get any better of a look, he covers his face with both of his hands, dropping everything in his hands and he clobbers into the sink. "Holy shit." The words escape my lips without hesitation. It's more confusion than anything that I feel, I don't even know what it is. "Travis- turn around." To my own surprise, I don't find myself disgusted. Not even compelled. I know I should be, it's not normal. "What are you doing?" I bend down to a crouching position to match his height.

His fake eye rolls around on the bathroom floor and I pick it up. A beautiful blue, slightly off colored to his right eye. "I uh- I think this is yours." I open my hand and hold it out to him. He moves the fingers from his good eye and snatches it from my hand. "T-Thanks." He blows it off and rubs it on his shirt before plopping it back in. Okay now..that, that's gross. "Did you seriously just?-" He clips his mask back on and stands up, ignoring my question. I just look up at him. "Is that what that stupid mask is for? To hide your..face?" Confusion fills my voice and I grab on the sink to stand up. "Its a prosthetic," He answers. It looks like he wants to say more but he doesn't.

I don't know how to live out the next few seconds, so I look off to the side and awkwardly hand him a flier. He takes it and neatly folds it before stuffing it into his pocket. "Uh- Travis. You're not going to tell anyone, about like- what you saw..right?" I want to tell everyone. But at the same time, it's not like doing that would benefit me in any way or do me any good. If anything, people thinking that I was hanging around in the bathroom with another guy would do the exact opposite of good. "Whatever." I start to walk out and rethink everything but he steps out in front of me. "Thank you. It means a lot to me." He nods his head down at me before walking out of the bathroom and closing the door. I stand there for nearly 20 minuets just thinking about what the actual fuck just happened.