Faces

full story

Its everywhere. Flowing from my eyes, and on the walls like a fresh coat of paint. Its such a pretty red. The puddles of it are nearly black. There are corpses and dead things all around me. Broken tree branches, headless birds, faceless corpses, and somehow in all the death, I am the most lifeless. Even in their dead state, everything is screaming, but I am silent because I cannot scream.

The sunlight is barely seen from behind the curtains in front of the windows. My bedroom is eerily dark, but not pitch black. Im lying on my side, facing the mirror on my wall. Slowly waking from sleep, I feel a strand of my soft black hair gently brush over my cheek as I move my head slightly, and I hear my name softly whispered. I open my eyes, not yet fully processing my surroundings.

I see a pair of intense, deep brown eyes starring right at me. The depths of her irises were somehow frigid, and the expression on her face seemed lifeless, like a living corpse. I gasped and the girls mouth opened when mine did. Then I realized I was staring into a mirror.

A little later that morning, Im on the bus trying desperately to stay awake as I stare out the window at the gently swaying trees. The bus is always jostling so surely that couldve kept me awake, but I am so sleepy that the jerky motions the bus seems to feel like the gentle rocking of a cradle. A small, humorless smile appears on my face as I look at the trees that are gently swaying in the wind. Its as if theyre waving mockingly and tauntingly at me, and telling me that although they are grounded by their roots, they are freer than I will ever be.

Although, how much freer would they be if they werent grounded by their roots? Sure, they can grow very tall and nearly touch the sky, but they could be even more free. The trees could be completely freed if only a tornado would pick them up and toss them into the sky. They would be dead and broken, most likely scattered in pieces all over the ground, but they would be free.

I ponder all these thoughts as I gaze out the window, and I try to ignore the increasing sound of something Im not sure I want to hear. I convince myself that the voices are only in my imagination, and yet the voices do not go away. Their screams only increase in volume. Screams of anger, screams of pain, and screams of desperation. For a long time, the screaming inside my mind and all around me is all I had. The voices, my only companions in an unwelcoming world.

Almost to the school Im going to now, I try desperately to believe Ill be able to make it through the day. The voices continue to yell, an incomprehensible chorus of screams. Trying to console the screaming voices that only I can hear I whisper to them in my thoughts, Please, please be quiet. Were ok, everything is ok, itll be different at this school, please be quiet, the unending sound ricochets and echoes inside my skull. After the bus stops and I walk off the bus, I wander into the brick building called school, then go find the office to receive my schedule.

Hi there, the blonde-haired lady in the office says too brightly, and even though her voice seems kind, all I can see is her face. Its so grotesque, like some sort of horrid abomination. I cant look away. The first thing I notice are her eyes, they are sewn shut with some sort of thread and there are poorly drawn eyes on her eyelids, but thats not all. It looks as if she couldnt stop smiling even if she wanted to because her mouth is sewn upwards in the corners.

Im here for my schedule. My name is Violet Ramone, I state. I cant help but stare at her sewn shut eyes.

I dont see a schedule for a Violet Ramone, she says confusedly in the same cheery voice. I wonder what color thread is in her face.

Try checking for Valetta Ramone, but please call me Violet, I reply. The thread in her face seems to be red or black

After a moment, she hands me a piece of paper and says while looking right at me, Here is your schedule, I hope you have a great first day. Finally, I realize that the thread is black, but soaked in blood.