ANGEL

My heart beats twice faster than usual. I count my every single step to erase my nervousness, “Walk faster, you lame snail!” that voice commands. I ignore it. I don’t want to walk faster. I'm not ready yet!

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image courtesy of ldrawingskill

“I don’t wanna see her!” I start my day with a scream; fortunately it’s stuck in my throat so it doesn’t disturb anyone’s sleep.

I rub my eyes and yawn a couple of times. I'm too lazy to get out from my warm bed. I'm too lazy to move my legs. I'm too lazy to see her, “I don’t wannna see her!” I scream again, this time I cover my mouth with my soft pillow. I hate her, I hate her ugly face.

I keep on convincing myself that I don’t want to see her, but something, a small voice in a narrow corner of my heart, pleads me to see her, “Just for a while, please.” It begs, “She is not as ugly as you think. Come on..” I give up. I take a deep breath and climb down my bed slowly, very very slowly. I can’t deny that I feel so nervous and afraid at the same time. I haven’t seen that face in about a week. How does she look now?

My heart beats twice faster than usual. I count my every single step to erase my nervousness, “Walk faster, you lame snail!” that voice commands. I ignore it. I don’t want to walk faster. I'm not ready yet!

Finally, I arrive. There she is, covering her right cheek with her right hand. I stare at her, she stares at me. I turn around, I’m not ready! I’m about to run away when that small voice laughs, “Coward.” It laughs harder. I’m not a coward! I step closer to her. I watch nervously how she moves her right hand. Damn! That scar is still there! Big! Black! Ugly!

The small voice disappears. It is now only she and me, just both of us, facing each other, standing in silence. I bow, “I don’t wanna see her!” I repeat that mantra over and over again, but it can’t change the fact that she is now standing in front of me with her ugly face. Monster!

I try to collect my courage. I can’t hide anymore, can I? I observe her from hair to toes. She has a nice figure. Not fat, but not thin either. She is tall, about 170 cms. Her hair is black, long and shiny. Her eyes, oh.... those eyes. I’m very familiar with those eyes, but I never looked deeply into them until now. Her lips are locked, but her eyes, they talk.

I shut my eyes, trying to unite small pieces of the broken story which I tried hard to forget.

It happened about two weeks ago, in one of the hot afternoons in November. The girl went home from school with some friends. She looked so beautiful. Everyone –both male and female, young and old- will be mesmerized by her beauty. She walked graciously, like a princess from fairy tales. Dazzling!

“Oh God, it’s so hot today.” One of the girls spoke, the others nodded.

“I wish I were old enough to get a driving license, so I wouldn’t have to walk.” Said that girl, the monster. She took a small mirror from her bag and checked her make up, “How do I look?” she asked her friends, still looking at the mirror.

“Beautiful, as always.” Her friends answered in unison.

She smiled, “I know.” She put the mirror back, but before it fell nicely into her bag, she screamed, “MOVE....” there was a little boy in front of her and a big truck speeding towards him. The little boy seemed stuck, he couldn’t move at all.

The girl ran and pushed him. There was sounds of horn and brake, and also the voice of the truck driver, “Move.. move..” but it was too late, the girl was hit. It happened in a blink of an eye. The girl lay on the ground, full of blood.

My eyes are still closed; I’m trying hard to remember what happened next. The girl got conscious a few days after that. She was in hospital back then. Her parents were there. They were so relieved to see their only daughter open her eyes after three days being unconscious.

“Mom, where am I?” she asked.

“You are in hospital sweetie. How are you feeling now? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sort of. What happened to me?”

Her mother told her the whole story, based on what she heard from her daughter’s friends. The girl nodded her head weakly a few times, “Yeah, I remember. How is that boy? Is he alright?”

“Yes.” Her father answered, “His mother is very grateful. She was here for a couple of hours. She really feels grateful for what you did.”

The girl smiled, but her smile disappeared when she spotted sadness on her parents’ eyes, “What’s wrong, Mom? Dad?”

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Her mother replied while rubbing the tears that suddenly fell from her eyes.

“Don’t lie. Tell me, what happened?”

The father, who was stronger than his wife, tried to explain the circumstance, “You were hit by a big truck and some pieces of sharp glass cut your cheek. They left a big wound there.”

It was sunny, it was not raining, but there was a thunder in that small room.

“What??” the girl was so shocked.

No one answered.

The girl looked at her reflection on a big flower vase. She saw her cheek covered with bandage. She pulled the bandage and threw it away. She almost fainted after seeing what the bandage was covering, a bloody truth. There, on her white and soft cheek, there was an ugly big wound, “NO!!” she threw the vase to the floor, “Tell me this is not true! It’s only a dream, right? Wake me up! Wake me up Mom, Dad! This dream is so horrible, I want to wake up.” She screamed. A nurse came and tried to calm her down. Her parents could do nothing; they knew very well how much beauty meant to their daughter.

Since that day the girl always locks herself in her bedroom. She doesn’t want to meet anyone. She is so ashamed of herself. She is .... ugly...

There was a knock on the door, “Who?” she asked lazily.

“This is mommy. There is someone who wants to meet you. Open the door, honey.”

“Who?” the girl asked again.

“Open the door, please.” Her mother pleaded.

The girl opened the door while covering her right cheek and she saw an old woman, a stranger. She looked at her mother, “Who is she?” her eyes threw a question. Her mother understood, she then said, “This is the boy’s mother. She wanted to see you earlier but I thought you were not ready to meet any guest.”

“Thank you so much.” The old woman spoke while holding the girl’s left hand, “I don’t know what would have happened to my son if you hadn’t saved him. I owe you a lot. You are such an angel. I have no idea what I can do to repay you.” She hugged her.

ANGEL... I open my eyes immediately. Angel, I repeat. Angel once again.

I stare at the monster –no, angel- again. She smiles. Oh my God. She looks gorgeous. It isn’t that the scar leaves her cheek, no, not like that, but, hey, look at her. She smiles for the first time since the accident happened. Look at how beautiful her smile is. Beautiful, yeah.. She is beautiful. She smiles again. Angel.

“Cassandra, what are you doing?”

“Mommy!!” I shout, “Why didn’t you knock on the door?”

“I have knocked several times. What happened to you? You smiled? You stood in front of mirror?” she attacks me with a bunch of questions. I don’t answer. I don’t know what to say.

“Do you have something to tell me?” I try to distract her.

She smiles, “Yes, I have good news for you.”

“What is it?” I ask, not very interested.

“Your daddy has collected the money for your surgery. You'll have a plastic surgery soon.” She smiles again.

“Plastic surgery?”

She nods, “Yes, dear. Yesterday you begged us to get you a plastic surgery, right?”

Oh yeah, plastic surgery! I remember now.

“So, are you happy now?”

I smile, “Yes, of course, but mom, I don’t need plastic surgery. Only ugly people need it.” I pause, waiting for her reaction.

“What do you mean?” she looks surprised.

“I’m an angel and I don’t need a plastic surgery.” I give her my sweetest smile, “Anyway, I will bathe now. I don’t want to come late to school.”

I walk to my bathroom, leaving my mother in a great confusion, “SCHOOL?” I hear her screaming. I can spot happiness on her scream. School, I miss it. I won’t care about what people will say about my scar. This scar, it doesn’t make me a monster. It is evidence that I am an angel. Yeah, angel...