The Maad Doctor [The Maad Series #1]

|10.1| From Beauty To Beast.

A blaze of fire scorched Stella's heart, and her gut wrenched into a million loops. She turned away from the mirror, fearing if she gazed at her face for too long, she would lose her mind.

"Calm down, Stella," she told herself, hoping to avoid a panic attack. "One... Two... Three... Four..."

Her stomach grumbled, and bile rose from her throat. Blocking her mouth with her hand, she rushed over to a flower vase and puked in it. Bits remained in her throat. She forced two fingers in her mouth and vomited even more. After that, she rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand and then burped, feeling better than before.

She reached for her chest and placed her palm over her heart. Now breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. She walked to the mirror again. This time she was prepared to look at herself. Why did she do this to me?

Tears fell down her face.

She sniffled.

What did I do to deserve this? I've been nothing but kind and giving. So, why me?

Her chest burned from sadness, and her mouth soured. It felt like someone had gripped her throat, and she couldn't swallow her bitter saliva.

Will they desire me the same? She thought of the men who worshiped her. They went to impressive lengths to capture her attention. But now... What about now?

No one would ever look at her the same, entertain her the same; she fathomed that. Her life was over the moment she had walked in that bathroom. Why had she done it? She could have stayed outside with the guests and guards.

But...

More tears ran down her face.

She didn't bother stroking them off.

She was hideous and pathetic.

No one will ever love me looking this.

She couldn't picture living in Virtue City anymore. People would feel sympathetic for her, apologize to her, and tell her everything would be all right. It was a lie.

She moved closer to the mirror and got a proper look at the scars.

It doesn't seem to be terrible.

She was never hardheaded. But at that moment, she had to be, or else the truth would have wrecked her. When Stella thought about hitting her prime, she had imagined being blindingly beautiful. Not... Not this.

I'm hideous.

Her fingers caressed her face and stopped at the deepest scar. It was broad and long. It started from her left temple, cutting down her eyes, nose, and lips, and ending on the right side of her chin.

"I'm a monster," she muttered, then sniffled. "I would rather take my life than allow people to see me like this."

"No," her reflection said.

"I will do it." Stella stamped her feet.

"Not until we catch that freckled fucko and annihilate her."

There was a knock on the door.

Stella sniffled. "Who is it?" She hoped it wasn't her mother.

"It's me, hun," Lady Camilla replied from outside. "Can I come in?"

"What does this fucko want?" her reflection asked.

Stella looked back at her reflection and placed a finger on her lips, shushing it. She contemplated if she should let in her mother. But she realized there was no point in saying no. Her mother would permit herself.