At a time not far from ours, creatures endlessly roam the streets we used to call home. Creatures with skin pinched and stretched tight over their decaying bones, with lips heavy and bruised.Teeth sharp and straight. Cheekbones bulging, noses moulded, raging scars of conformity burning on their plastic skin. Eyes with no stories to tell. Souls with no life worthy of living. Bodies that are not their own, that act as displays of wealth and so called ‘beauty’. Every last drop of humanity is engrossed with avarice and the desire to be perfect.
One of these creatures, shakily holds a photograph, overwhelmed with perilous curiosity. Its eyes wander across the faded image. In it, a young girl smiles, a true smile, full of warmth, her cheeks rosy and full, eyes squinting with joy. Memories beam out of the photograph, akin to the sun on a summer day. The sun soon grows harsh and blinding, flashing memories, bright surgery lights, injections, pressure, remorse.
Enveloped by these memories, the creature remembers. The expectations, the competition, the heavy weight of insecurity pushing its heart and passion to somewhere dark. Locked up and guarded by jealousy and societal standards that have become the ‘norm’. The creature remembers what it was like to be thirteen, surrounded by fake personalities preaching surgeries that not only change physical appearance, but the soul. The creature remembers what it was like to be a girl. A young girl, who allowed her pointless insecurities to turn into scars. The girl knows that the ‘true smile’ she once had has been stolen from her.
The memories swirl around, like a gentle wave, a reminder of who she once was, of the destructive advice that she trusted. A deep pain punches her in the chest, and her throat burns with a well of emotion. The memories glow again, brighter, harsher, until she is blinded. Her eyes close as the light shines through her heart, desperately searching for an explanation. A faint muttering, and a sharp prick forces her eyes open. An overwhelming crowd of blue masks surround her vision, looking down, peering into the soul they are greedy to take. A glimmer catches her eye, the shine of a light on the blade of a needle. She’s about to speak out, the words swarming in her mouth. Take back the decision. Heal what is broken.
An epiphany washes over her like a tempestuous sea, flooding her eyes with salt water.
A delicate tear of recognition falls onto the photograph unbidden. She is back in the present, trapped in a permanently scarred body. The girl lifts her head, a simple task that feels as though it requires unimaginable strength, to find herself facing her reflection. A deformed creature numbly stares back. Her bruised lips quiver open and the unspeakable question echoes painfully through her rotted, influenced mind- “Am I real anymore?”