The History of the Phantom

My First Memory

My whole life, I have heard people talk about their first memories. Each one is explained almost the same way. It's a scenery so vague, it is like blurriness in your mind. Usually it's something innocent like your mother singing a lullaby, sitting next to the family's pet, or listening to a song your parents sang along to. For me, my first memory was far from what you would normally hear. It was brutal and emotionally painful. The worst part is, my first memory was as vivid as the light of day.

I don't remember much but as the doctor put me in my mother's arms right after I was born, she saw my deformed face for the first time without any warning. Usually when a mom holds her child for the first time it is supposedly something so beautiful that's beyond words. However, for me, I remember the horror in my mother's eyes as she stared at my disgusting, cadaverous face. The fear in her eyes burned into my head and I can't get it out no matter how hard I try. Next thing I know, I hear a screech of pure terror that is more startling than you could imagine. I grew up with that depressing image and scary noise inside my mind. Knowing that I was the cause of this terrible fear made it even more painful. It wasn't until years later when one of the nurses told me the rest of the story.

"IT'S HIDEOUS! IT'S FRIGHTENING!" My mom screams. Just like the little baby I was, I bursted out into tears.

"M'am, with all the respect, this is your son," The doctor spoke firmly. He was in disbelief that he just heard a mother call her own child hideous. I never knew this but, apparently, parents are supposed to love their kids no matter what they look like. Clearly, that didn't run in my mom's book. Then she closed her eyes shut so tightly she couldn't see me. Her arms shook while she was holding me from a distance.

"I CAN'T LOOK!" She yelled again. Then the doctor left the room but a few minutes later he came back inside.

"We have a white mask if this helps at all," The doctor sighs. Immediately, she snatched the mask out of his hands and slapped in on my face. She calmed down a bit, but she still looked at me with caution.

"Thank you," She smiled to the doctor.

"He's a healthy young boy. I think his deformity runs in your genes," He said.

"Not mine but his father's. My ex-boyfriend's dad had a deformed face too. It's the reason why I left him. His dad was very sick so my ex wanted him to live with us. I couldn't look at the father's face so I broke up with the guy."

Another piece of evidence that proofs my mom was utter trash. She literally referred a man who she shared a son with her as "the guy". "The guy" would go for a boy you were in a relationship with for two weeks. She dated my dad for a year and was planning a future with him. I'm pretty sure he deserved a better label than "the guy". Later, she breaks up with him because he wanted his deadly ill dad to stay with them.

It only took a couple of minutes after birth for my mother to think of me as a disappointment. As I grew up, she would never nurture me the way parents are supposed to. She would support me financially, but forbidden me to ever take my mask off since she couldn't stand the sight. While other kids are falling on the ground in the park and their parents are hugging them, my mom would simply tell me to put ice on wherever it hurt. If other kids would rip my mask off to see my face, I would end up getting in trouble cause I scared them. It was a tough childhood, but when you thought it couldn't get any worse, it did.