The Fears Within

Inner Beauty

Cacophobia- fear of ugliness

Wendy rhythmically brushed her hair, 100 times exactly. Every time she started at her scalp and slowly trailed the brush to the bottom of her hair, repeating over and over again. She kept going until her hair was perfectly straight and shiny, not a single hair out of place.

Painstakingly, she grabbed her eyeliner and traced it around her eye, making sure it curved in exactly the right place and was even on both sides. She had to make sure her lip gloss was just exactly the right shade of pink. It had to be just the right shininess, but it couldn’t be too thick either.

Every morning Wendy spent two or more hours, taking a shower, washing and straightening her hair, brushing it, carefully putting on her makeup, and spending about forty-five minutes trying to decide what to wear. Making sure everything matched just right. Nothing could be out of place. At school, if her makeup smudged she immediately had to be excused to go fix it.

Wendy brushed her teeth and then smiled, marveling at the whiteness and straightness of her small, square little teeth. She had gone through five years of braces, two more than the orthodontist said she needed, to make sure her smile was winning.

This morning was picture day, so Wendy got up five hours before school started, spending about half of that showering three times and trying on about forty different outfits. It was important that she be remembered by her peers as how she was. Beautiful in every way.

Her mother called her down for breakfast and Wendy walked slowly down the stairs and sat carefully in her seat, trying not to wrinkle her dress. Wendy’s mother, a spray-tanned 50 year old woman, with more botox than skin in her face, leaned down to give Wendy a kiss on the cheek. Wendy gasped and immediately whipped out a small compact mirror from her pocket, checking to see if her mother smudged her makeup at all.

“Oh, sweetie don’t you look beautiful.” Her mother smiled, lipstick stained teeth bared in a tight grin.

“Thank you mother, you look lovely as always.” Wendy said, digging into her grapefruit.

Her mother beamed, “Aww, sweetheart, you always know just the thing to say.”

When she was done with breakfast, Wendy walked slowly back up the stairs and took off her dress to brush her teeth again, she didn’t want any ghastly toothpaste stains on her dress.

Thirty minutes before the first bell, Wendy pulled into the high school parking lot, eager to show her friends her new dress and haircut.

She met them beneath the big maple tree on the school grounds, just like always. They immediately started gushing.

“Oh, Wendy. I absolutely adore you’re haircut!”

“That dress is adorable!”

“You look so beautiful Wendy!”

Wendy took all this in stride, “Thanks you guys. You all look… nice, too.”

They beamed, eager for praise from Wendy.

The group walked into the halls, other girls gushed over them while the boys stared, entranced. Wendy dodged around other people, not wanting to get touched by anyone.

When she got to her locker, she spun the combination and checked her reflection in one of the five mirrors stuck to the inside. She got her books and placed them in her book bag, pulling the strap over her shoulder. Careful not to wrinkle her dress.

As she turned she bumped into someone, hard. She gasped as her teeth clicked together. Wendy tasted blood on her lip. Frantically, she opened her locker again. Sure enough, there was a bite mark on her lower lip. Her heart was beating in panic and anger. She felt like screaming.

Slowly, she turned, the anger blazing from her eyes. The person she had run into was a girl from her grade. Wendy didn’t know who she was, but she definitely wasn’t staring at Wendy with an apology.

“Watch where you’re going.” The girl said, glaring at Wendy.

“No, why don’t you watch where you’re going. And get out of my way while you are at it.” Wendy hissed, licking away the blood on her lip.

“You’re such a stuck up bitch, Wendy. You spend so much time working on your appearance that you never stop to look at your inner beauty.” With another glare, the girl turned away and stalked off.

The revelation hit Wendy hard. The girl was right. She needed to work on her inner beauty.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Pictures were quick and easy, the camera man commenting her on her looks.

When she got home, Wendy was alone. Both her parents were at work still. She immediately set to work.

Bending over to the cabinet under the sink, she grabbed a bottle of cleaning solution. Wendy imagined her insides, all pink and slimy and gross. This would certainly take care of that. Then she would be ultimately beautiful. No one would ever think her ugly again.

Wendy unscrewed the lid and pressed the bottle to her mouth, draining the contents in one gulp. She smiled, self satisfied.

Then she blinked, her stomach starting to sting. Wendy dropped the container, her confusing switching to alarm as her insides started to burn. She screamed in pain and threw up, blood coming out of her mouth along with the contents of her stomach. She saw stars, her vision going fuzzy. The alcohol and other chemicals in the solution were starting to mess with her head. Wendy tried to move to the phone to get help, but she slipped in her delirium and hit her head on the corner of the counter. A sharp pain lanced through her skull and she blacked out.

A quest for beauty ended in disaster.