The eyes glazed over.
Pupils staring into a whole different universe, a space with no stars. No sun, light...
A dark cavity of emptiness, bound into a sky where there is no hope of light ever spilling out over the horizon, filling the empty space.
They're staring back at me. I don't recognise them.
Sickly pale skin sucked into dents of hollowed out cheeks- skin that hangs heavy under the eyes, cold and loose around the curved mouth. When was the last time it smiled?
A scar. Snaking right under the mouth, stretching along the chin- down the neck...
23 stitches, forming a would-be flatline reaching down to the chest.
Every stitch, a mark of every thought that is printed into my brain- tattoo ink harshly forged into my mind with a needle of memories I can never pull out.
I watch my hand slowly rise- staring into my mirrored actions from the reflection on my bedroom wall. A full-sized mirror I had refused to look in for years. Because the first thing I saw was that....
The very thing I'm watching my fingers trace.
They keep going, slowing making their way over each bump and dent, a scaling line of scar tissue upon scar tissue, revealing a noticeable red streak where my pale skin had to be pulled back together- sewn up like the worlds ugliest doll.
They said I was lucky. The word still tastes bitter in my mouth.
The same "comforting" thing repeated over and over again goes from sweet to sour real fast.
You could have died! Think about how lucky you are right now! And Evelyn.... she'll learn to live with it, she's doing so well! you girls are so blessed.
They had first tried to comfort us 5 years ago today. when we both glanced over at each other- eyebrows raised in an almost laughable manner- then tilting our heads back up at the nurse, both giving the best plastic smile our crooked faces could offer while both thinking the same thing.
We would have rather died.
Evelyn and I never spoke after that. We both reminded each other of the price we now pay- of all the words we almost never said. Our scars a permanent reminder of who we will forever be.
I take a step towards the mirror.
Another.
I get close enough to examine the disfigurement, running down my neck- the sutures lacing down my skin making the extra mile of tiny zig-zags. I grimace at the details.
The one part of me, I will always think ugly.
My breath turns to fog, spreading across the mirror. I watch it for a while, the edges beginning to disappear- shrink away.
I reach out, running my fingers through the sheet of condensation, my finger marks leaving streaks through the fog.
I glance at it sideways, picturing it as a canal, it's waves running long and free along my bedroom wall- my face staring back at me through the streaks of the mirror.
Evelyn and I would go for walks along the canal- under the bridge where some of the boats used to be.
We would walk for ages, just... talking, and laughing.
I miss that.
Sometimes I would offer her a race, so sure that my feet could take me 10 times faster than her's could- so sure I would win.
