"Beauty is how you feel inside, and it reflects in your eyes. It is not something physical." - Sophia Loren
Carl only let me cry a short while longer before he forced me to sober up, good timing too since Caleb returned soon after my little break down. They didn't stay too long after that either and soon I was kissing them both goodbye, Caleb on the lips and Carl on the cheek.
I only stayed two more days in the hospital, then they finally thought I was well enough to return home. My dad was overjoyed to have me back in the house since he said he'd been rather lonely. I had bandages all over my face, the things I thought were scabs. Turns out I had a fractured rib and my entire body was pretty bruised up. I looked and felt a mess.
It's been about a week since I came home, so tomorrow I return to school and I'm dreading it. Why? This morning I took off my bandaids. I never thought my face could get any worse. As I sit staring the mirror, the face of the creature looking back almost frightens me. A long scar trails down my cheeck from my eye to the corner of my mouth. A few smaller ones sort of branch off the larger one all over my cheek. It doesn't hurt, it's not swollen, it's just ugly. That's what hurts the most.
Most likely, I'm being really vain right now, but I couldn't care less. I'm a monster.
The lights are off in my room and I just want to crawl into a small, lonely hole and die. I feel like I'm reaching my ropes end finally. The absolutely bottom of the loser chain and I'm not sure I can take this anymore. It was bad enough I was a loser, who was ugly and had no friends except for one lovable goofball I'm sure only put up with me.
Then I meet one guy that likes me for me and I have to ruin it by lying to him 'cause I'm too damn cowardice to deal with my problems. Now I guess it's only fair that I have a ruined face to finish the deal. I wonder what I did to deserve this? Guess I never really was thankful. Well, I was, but I just never showed it enough I suppose.
As I imagine school tomorrow it churns my stomach to the point where I need to throw up- but there's nothing to throw up, I haven't eaten since I saw my face. Total appetite killer. My dad tried to tell me it wasn't so bad, but it didn't help. Tonight I'm going to be working at the diner and I'm dreading it since I'm sure I'll run into kids from school and who knows who else.
No make up on earth could hide my shame, but it might help the scar. I layer on coat after coat of cover up and foundation and powder till my face is practically caked in the crap, but it doesn't help anything. Bitter tears overflow and flow down my face. The salty water washes away my makeup and again I'm left with a scar from night I don't remember for a reason I don't know.
Deciding I've spent enough hours sitting in the dark staring at my reflection, I reason it's about time to join the world again. After donning my lovely waitress uniform, I saunter downstairs and shove some random food down my throat, then get walking. It's chilly tonight, so I pull on my long coat that's about as long as my dress, thankfully it ties up though so I tie up tight and cross my arms. The wind is what's killing me, so as I walk my head it ducked.
The diner is only a few blocks away, but it's a ridiculous distance in this cold. Maybe I'll get lucky and the thing on my face will just freeze up and fall off. Here's hoping. Finally after a few minutes I see the diner's glowing sign in the distance and I pick up the pace. Its promises of warmth and hot tea call to me and It's as if I can't get there quick enough. I swear it might snow tonight.
At long last I reach the parking lot I know so well and scurry inside like a mouse to its hole. Once inside I cover my face inconspicuously and slip into the kitchen to hide. I hear lots of loud voices from behind me so I know the diner is packed tonight, of course. It's a cold night, we're always busy on those. People seem to like the warm food, warm temperature, and warm smiles.
My dad is standing by the skillet and it gives me a sense of nostalgia. With as sigh I hang my coat and replace it with an apron. Once tied up I find Betsy, an old woman who fills in for me when I can't make it.
"Hey, Bets, I'm here, you can head home," I notify her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
She turns and smiles at me, then heads back to the kitchen, not before handing off the notepad to me. On it is her familiar scrawl depicting her last order. Table five needs a round of four ice-teas. I take the note to the window and hang it on the spindel, then move on to tables that still have menus. I take order after order at various tables and it feels nice to finally be into something familiar again. This is my first night back since the accident and it gives me a sense of homecoming.
As I'm on my way to putting the note on the rack, the door opens and a cool breeze flows in, sending chills up my spine. My eyes glance unwillingly to see who's entered and my blood runs cold. In walk Annabelle, Jason, and two of their posse members. Jenny and Tod I think? I don't care.
Suddenly I'm reminded of the scar on my face and of something else I need to tell Caleb.
It happened two days after Caleb and I started dating. I haven't told anyone and IWas hoping I could just forget about it after time. It's proved to be untrue and the memory dances across my vision in a terrible display I can't dismiss.
It was Friday night and I'd been invited to a party, yeah I know, I was invited to a party. Caleb couldn't make it, he was out of town visiting someone so I went alone. Carl didn't feel like attending and told me to have a good time, which I planned to do. So I got to Annabelle's house and the party was in full swing. No one there I recognized so I just sort of found a happy place by the wall where I could watch the going-ons, but not have to take part. Couples made out on couchs, boys were having shot contests, and girls pranced around in kitchen drapes they called dresses.
I'd never felt so out of place and invisible. Out of the corner of my eye though, I noticed someone watching me. Thrills run up and down my back as I realize who it is and that they're coming closer. It's Jason and he's wearing a deceptive yet enchanting smile.
"Hey, Elena," he greets, pulling me into a friendly hug, as if we've been friends forever. I don't know what else to do, so I just hug him back.
"Uh, yeah hey, Jason," I mumble into his shoulder and then he lets me go.
"Wanna dance?" He asks charmingly and it sweeps me away to hear him ask me that. I know I'm dating Caleb, and I'm sure I love him, or at least like him, but at this moment to hear a boy I've liked for so long finally notice me, it's like happiness overflows.
"Sure," I answer trying to hide my eagerness and for the next however many hours we just get lost in the music, we become a part of the pulsing crowd of drunk teenagers. I'd never felt more free.
Before I know it he's dragging me toward a dark bedroom that's unoccupied and welcoming. His smile is consistant and I only have a vague idea what he has in mind, but I'm too high on cloud nine to question his motives. He locks the door behind us and pushes me onto the bed, leaving me feeling like I'm floating. He lies next to me and kisses me and I melt in his arms.
I wish and wish I could lie like that with him forever, for once I feel absolutely beautiful.
Things escalate quickly though and I feel the magic fade as he reaches to lift off my shirt. I pull back from the kiss and shake my head, trying to reclaim the dreamy state we were in before. He doesn't pay attention to my displeasure and continues to try to remove my clothing. In a blink of an eye I'm sitting up and pushing him off.
"What are you doing?" I questioned him harshly and hit his hands away.
"Come on, Baby, you know you want this," he says quietly and temptingly. At that moment I felt I was at a crossroads. I was forced to ask myself what I was really wanted; Caleb or Jason?
With Jason I'd finally get what I always wanted. What I'd been longing for so long. With Caleb though, I knew I would get what I desperately needed. What I'd been searching for for my entire life.
"I'm outta here," I muttered and got up off the bed quickly, then went for the door. Before I could unlock it though he was up against my back, pinning me to the door and breathing down my neck.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He asked sounding angry and I could smell the heavy liquor on his breath even with him standing behind me. I didn't panic though and calmly smashed the back of my head into his face, easily making him stumble back and land on his drunken ass.
"I think I'm leaving," I answer without emotion, unlock the door, and stop just outside the door to look over my shoulder for one last word,"and for the record, I'm so over you."
That should've been it, that should've been enough, but the bastard had to get his final word in and it cut so deeply into me I can't explain.
"Caleb can have you, ugly bitch."
I never told Caleb what happened. I never told Carl. I never told anyone. In fact, until now, I convinced myself it was all just a dream and never thought more about it. It wasn't a dream though, not a nightmare, it happened and I was weak once again. Now, seeing Jason again, I feel the urge to run and hide my shame. Can't now though, I've got a job to do, so like a good waitress I seat the customers speedily.
"This way please," I greet robotically and they all fall dead silent.
"Elena?" Annabelle questions in disbelief, almost shocked horror is more like it I guess. Her hair is up in a poofed style, her lips are red, and she's wearing a flowery dress I'd kill to own. She seriously looks like she walked out of the pages of a magazine.
Jason is on her arm, or I guess she's on his, and they look like this years best couple.
"Yes, let me show you to your table," I answer trying to avoid eye contact, my scar seems to be burning on my face though and I'm sure it's glowing like neon now.
Snickers flutter through the small group and Annabelle motions for me to show the way, as if I'm her servant. Though in this particular scenario I guess I am. Without another word I walk them toward the back booth I know they like and place four menus down then wait for them to take their seats. As much as I'd love to just flee out the door, I have to wait and take their drink orders.
"What'll you have to drink?" I question out of habit once they're comfortable.
"What happened to your face?" Annabelle asks as if she's just dying to know and can't bare the suspence. As if the bitch really cares. I sigh and stare at my notepand in my hand.
"I don't have time for this, please, just tell me what you'd like to drink," I must sound pathetic, but I feel so exposed they're lucky I don't just split and hide in the bathroom like I have so many times before thanks to them.
"Come on, you can't just leave us hangin-" she tries to go on, but Jason cuts her off.
"I'll take a root beer," and he places his menu down rather heavilly. He looks annoyed with his girlfriend, or I guess lover works better. Could he actually be defending the "ugly bitch"? Doubt it.
"Make that two," the other guy pipes in and the nameless girl adds that she'll take a lemonade. Now it's left to Annabelle and she rolls her eyes and places her menu down then purses her lips.
"Whatever, I'll take some water," and I collect their menus as if my life depends on it.