"What's wrong with you?" I ask my mirror, looking into my own eyes and my heart breaks. I hate everything about my face, "why can't you ever just be pretty? Be enough? What's wrong with you?" I ask and my fists ball.
I wonder if I'll ever find out, if the answer will come to me. Like it had come to Lily. She used to be ugly, she used to be my friend. Then over the summer, she got pretty and it got to her head. Her big fucking head. She stopped being friends with me, she got too pretty to hang out with a slug. Her words, not mine.
"I'm too pretty. You look like a slug with makeup." She laughed and I wanted to wipe her smile off. I wanted to strike her, to punch her. But I didn't, I knew better. But it's all I want to do now. I know just the way to make me pretty, I do. I do. It's the way to make me everything I want to be.
Hours have gone by, I'm working on my cure. "You're gonna be pretty. You are." I tell the mirror, watching as the scissors chop away my face. A smile on my face as I make myself into what I want to be. My hands chop the ugly bits away, and by the time I'm done they'll forget the old me. The ugly slug, all they'll see is beauty.
I'll be so pretty they'll all forget about Lily. They'll all forget her pretty, and when the times right. I'll get her rotting corpse out from under my bed. They'll see I'm pretty.
It's a gift, how pretty her face is. Cause now, I'm pretty too. She'd be sad to be me, so I killed her. I only want them to see me.
Because now I'm perfect.
I'm as pretty as can be.
Worthy.
Finally pretty.
