Heart Strings

3

I still remember the first time I saw my reflection after that...

I hated it

I looked like a monster and I couldn't stand the sight of myself.

I've always hated bad skin, acne, scars, stretch marks, I hate them all. Which is why, even though I love my parents... I have a hard time looking at them.

I tried to focus on my sewing, but the pain of my still-open wounds kept nagging at me. Almost as if saying

'You can't forget Lily, we won't let you'

The things I sew are always so beautiful... Why can't I be beautiful too?

The thought kept spinning around in my head. That tiny amount of sanity I had was dwindling, trying to convince me not to do what I had in mind.

But I didn't listen, I threw down the project I was working on, instead I picked up my fabric scissors, and colorful threads, delicately placed on shiny needles.

I gritted my teeth as I used the sharp little scissors to re-open my wounds into cleaner cuts

The pain was almost unimaginable, but still I kept going. Thick lines of blood dripped down onto my knees.

I looked into my vanity mirror, I could see it, all the patterns, all the colors, stained faintly into different shades of red.

But something, even when I thought I was finished, still wasn't quite right

Some of my wounds had closed up into ugly scars,

Another thought popped into my head, this one more devious than the first, so much so that I had to stop and question if it was worth a it.

I smiled to myself, it's not like I need much right? I'm sure no one would really mind if I got some new skin...

But who from?

Then I remembered uncle Krys...
His skin was always so pretty, cleanly shaved, not a blemish or discoloration in sight...