The Saint Jones [Completed]

chapter 7: The Judgements

Cher

As soon as he disappears, I close the door behind me and sigh, back resting against the white wall. My fingers run through my bangs and I start giggling like crazy, I can feel the excitement rising again in the pit of my belly.

What just happened is beyond my imagination, I can not  believe that I, Cher McBroom, has done something like that, I have talked to the most mysterious yet attractive man I have ever seen in my life!

He is so beautiful though I can not see more than his luscious, well-drawn, pink and somewhat pale lips and his nose. His skin is too perfect to be true, the colour is tanned, very tanned. He has this type of Spanish skin, glossy and all moisturise that fascinates me even more.

The excitement is still in me, I have never felt such a feeling for a very long time now, the last time I felt all excited to the point of going to the bathroom, was when I first started dating my first boyfriend, Clay...

I sigh leave my mouth as I head for the toilet because, yes, I want to pee, the excitement is too strong for me to hold on.

Passing the mirror placed next to the bathroom door, I catch a glimpse of myself in the well clean mirror that forces me to look at myself. All of a sudden, I can feel my bladder become lighter, I do not feel the urge to pee anymore as my eyes start wandering around my face.

One thing that keeps me awake almost every night is myself, my figure, that face that is mine, my whole body that is my whole package, all of these are my nightmares.

When I close my eyes, the things that I see and hear are the voices of blank faces, the judgements they give me. They point their fingers at me, whisper abominable words and make me feel guilty.

To be judged by others is a trial. People constantly asked me if I was not tired of wearing so much of makeup, my best friend himself repudiated me by telling me things that a best friend should not tell. People were watching me with that look that means 'what is she hiding?'

Although I know that I have changed a lot, three years ago, I did not wear makeup, my face was once a virgin, then one day, I appear, face full of makeup, unrecognizable, and it was the beginning of a tragedy. My sudden change have dragged people to notice me even more.

What was once a contentment and excitement to go to university turned out to be a shame, a revulsion. Walking in the lobby was a hurdle, a fear. I remember the violent words I received every day from the others, it was hell.

Your face looks like shit.

Where are your eyebrows?

Oh Jesus, here's the makeup artist.

Your face is similar to my  paint palette.

Can I spit on you?

These were what I was enduring the whole time. Sometimes, when I rethink of the past, I want to strangle myself because I was the culprit. If only I knew better about makeup, I would not have taken it for granted.

My finger run down my jawline to my lips and my chin, my eyes are looking at someone else in this mirror, it is not me, it is a stranger I see every day when my eyes meet a mirror.

A deep fluffy breath leaves my mouth and I decide to remove my makeup. For real, it is sometimes painful to see someone you are not when you look at yourself.

It makes you feel bad, it makes you feel untrue to your own kind. It certainly makes you feel... empty.

I seize my pink beauty bag and take my cotton bag. I open the blue bottle of cleansing product and pour it on the cotton, letting it swallows the fresh liquid, then I wipe and rub the white thing on my skin, seeing the makeup vanish little by little.