I was scared to smile; it brought me great pain and discomfort. When I smile, I can feel my jaw shifting out of place, my rotted teeth exposing itself to the world. I can hear strangers laughing and gagging at the sight of me, including my mother, who once exclaimed that I was born ugly, that she would trade me for a more beautiful child.204Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡddQHnSFd1K
I was scared to laugh, for the sound of my laugh, makes everyone scared and uncomfortable. There was a day in school where my teacher got pranked by a student, he was disappointed, but he continued to laugh with the rest of the class.
I wore a mask over my face, hiding my disgusting visage. I just told everyone that I was just awkward and shy, so they left me alone. Yet, when the class laughed that day, I laughed with them. My laugh sounded inhuman, like an animal trying to growl with a slit throat, something between a whimper and a roar.
My jaw locked open, bumping the bottom of my mask. If the disturbing sounds wasn't enough to make the entire classroom panic, my face would do the rest. Some screamed while others vomited; tears poured from my eyes as they threw objects at me, telling to go away and die.
After this day, my mother threw me out, and I was left on the street, with no knowledge of basic survival. I knocked on doors asking for help, only to be pepper sprayed and threatened with guns.
Eventually, in the dead of night, I saw my reflection at a lake. My jaw wasn't slightly out of place, but greatly broken. My face was entirely busted, bruised, and unrecognizable. I was nothing but a worn down punching bag. Yet, I don't remember how I ended up this way, but I knew I wasn't born like this.
The next night, I awoke to the sound of fireworks. A festival was taking place, and I didn't know for what reason. I was starved, dehydrated, and my bones poked from underneath my skin. In the distance, I noticed familiar faces; it was my mother, along with my father who she divorced, watching the fireworks on the edge of the cliff.
They looked so happy, their faces plastered with a smile. I thought that maybe if I talked to them, in this peaceful moment of theirs, maybe they would take me back home. I walked up to my mother, and she screamed at the top of her lungs. My father tried to reach out for her as she stumbled backwards. Yet, he was too late, for she slipped off the cliff, smashing headfirst into a rock.204Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj70t1Ihr3Q
I tried to call out for her, staring down at the bloody mess, unable to process the scene. My father faced me, asking me in a serious tone, "Why couldn't you have died the first time?" He tackled me to the ground, smashing his fist into my face over and over. He punched until I no longer could see, until I laid there choking on my own blood.
He walked away, assuming I was dead. I stood up once again, and everyone screamed at my worsened appearance. A part of me wanted revenge, to bash his face in as well, but rather I staggered to the edge of the cliff, calling my mother's name.
I turned back to him one last time with an uneven smile, an uncanny feeling of pure joy, before jumping down to meet her. I just wanted to be noticed by them, and now, I am the last thing my mother ever saw, and something my father couldn't forget.
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