Masks

I wore my first mask when I was fourteen.

I had just come home with my heart in pieces with tears staining my face. My first boyfriend had dumped me after school. Looking back at it now, it seems silly - of course there are going to be more boys to find love and heartache, but I was only fourteen. His name was Hunter and silly, foolish me was heartbroken over a guy whose Mom still packs his lunch. I was a very dramatic fourteen year old and blushed when he approached me on the blacktop after school. It was an unusually warm February day and I decided to wear my favorite purple tank top with ruffles. I held my books in front of my chest and eyed my watch waiting for my prince to come and meet me. He came sauntering from the side of the building, his blonde hair swooped low on his face, covering one eye. My heart pounded as a mix of emotions bubbled to the top of my heart.

"Hi, Hunter!" I giggled, approaching him ready to give him a hug.

"Not now, Pandora," Hunter brushed me off and my heart deflated a little.

"What's up?" I tried to regain composure after my heart skipped a beat.

Hunter blew a ginormous pink bubble which he smacked against his lips, "It's over, Pandora. I'm seeing Katie now."

I don't remember if he said anything else or what I said. I came running home to my mother baking cookies in the kitchen with tears staining my cheeks. Spit and snot were mixed together on my face as I blubbered to my mother about what happened. I had recently started wearing makeup and my tears ran black from my mascara down my cheeks, dripping onto my favorite tank top, staining it.

Her face pinched together and I was afraid of what she was going to say. Her eyes soften at the sudden fear on my face as she wiped away the sticky situation. "Oh, Pandora, honey. Everything will be okay."

She led me away from the warm smelling cookies and up the stairs to her room. I sat down on her egg shell white comforter, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. Across the room, my mother bent down by her dresser with a mirror that hung above it. I could see my reflection in the mirror, I looked like a dark angel. The mascara blackened the areas around my eyes, causing my delicate, angelic blue eyes to become piercing. My straight black hair matched the distress on my face as it was falling out of my ponytail. My lip quivered again at the sight of my reflection.

My focus was drawn away from the mirror as my mother drew a key from her pocket to open a top drawer. I've never seen her open it before as it squealed open.

"Forget about that Hunter boy," my mother said cooly and calmly, drawing something from the drawer, "This will fix your broken heart."

She approached me with a thin delicate piece of material. I noticed immediately that there were holes that were cut towards the upper part of it along with a single slit at the bottom. "This is a mask," my mother explained, "Hunter can't hurt you now while you wear it. It will protect you."

I fought against the urge to lean back farther away from the approaching mask, as my mother gently laid it on my face. The mask tingled against my wet cheeks, like applying chapstick to chapped lips. And that was it. I didn't feel too different, though when looking back into the mirror, I looked a bit different. The mascara stains were gone, my eyes returning back to the delicate blue as I shook the previous image from my brain. Though, I noticed a slight fuzziness on my skin, as if I had put too much foundation creating a cakey look. Otherwise, I was back to looking like Pandora.

⚐⚐⚐

It was a few more years before I put the next mask on.

I knew something was wrong. I didn't feel like myself anymore. It was as if a slumbering monster had awoken in my heart, clawing away at my desires. Food became unappetizing, sleep became unattainable as I slowly marched through my day. My favorite activities became unappealing as I spent most of my time in my room, lost in books drowning out the reality of my life.