If you change a part of you, what would you choose?
I had just turned sixteen the first time I got a mod. A late start, but my father had just gotten a new position in his job and suddenly we were practically swimming in money. It was just something simple: an operation that was good for beginners, the doctors had told me. And it was, in all honesty, and I loved the results. My new nose was less angular than my old one had been, smaller and more girl-like with a slight upturn. I smiled at myself in the mirror afterwards, turning my head this way and that. Then I noticed my chin. It was too large. It didn’t fit my face and poked out in a sharp point. I covered it with my hand and smiled again once I saw that my face looked much better without it.
It only took a month for me to go back under the knife. I emerged with a small chin, much more proportionate to my face than my other had been. My dark hair fell on either side of my new feature, bringing out the new softness to my face. It was perfect. For the first time in years, I was happy with how I looked.
It was far too long before I was able to get another mod. A full two months of looking in the mirror and seeing the same, boring person day after day, except she had a cuter nose and chin. Today I’d see an even newer me though. I lay down in the padded blue chair, leaning back in it comfortably as I waited for the doctor to come in. The nurse attached the breathing hose to my nostrils and suddenly everything went dark. I awoke looking through the same eyes, however they were lit up with a new color. A bright pink replaced the dull green that had once surrounded my pupil. I smiled at myself in the glass and the pink glowed brighter.
There was a new Fad now. The girls I had made new friends with- the same girls I could never even imagine talking to before my mods- were discussing getting it done and invited me along. I had only been hanging out with them for a week, ever since my eyes were changed, so it would be a risk to turn them down. I could be kicked out of the group. They could decide I was just an annoying, boring kid after all. So I went along with them, and by the time I got out of the operation room I was proud of my new ears. Lacey came in and wrapped one arm around my chest from behind as she toyed with one of the points on my now-elfin ears with the other hand. She told me how amazing they looked and then leaned down to kiss my cheek before whispering congratulations to me. Now, I was officially a Mod. Just like Lacey and the others.
Lacey asked me what Mod I wanted next at lunch about three weeks later. She leaned into me before reaching across my shoulders and toying with the tip of my ear- a habit she had picked up. I had been thinking about it lately as well and my eyes dropped to my forearm without permission. Lacey saw and when she rolled my arm over she saw the scars left behind from my own attempts at body modification- a different kind of modification- at a much earlier age. Before I knew what I was saying, the words pulse tattoo had spilled out of my mouth. Her answering grin was all the go ahead I needed. While we were at the shop, instead of getting another tattoo for her collection, she sat beside me and watched as I got my first. When it was done, she ran her fingers over my sensitive flesh and the sinuous black swirls inked over my wrist and hand. She smiled widely as the swirls danced under fingers. When her fingers tickled over the inside of my wrist, the speed of the swirls ratcheted up with my pulse. She peeked up at me from the corner of her eyes and smirked.
Two days later I was violently ill. My head was pressed against the cool cabinets next to the toilet, eyes slipping closed against the bright light of the bathroom when the door creaked open. Thinking it was my mother yet again, I started to say that I was fine. It wasn’t until Lacey sat down next to me that I realized it wasn’t her. She was smiling, just like always, but it was sadder this time. Her eyes were filled worry as she sat down beside me and looked over my face. When she asked me if I was okay, I lied and said yes, knowing she’d know it wasn’t true, before burying my overheated face in the crook of her neck.
