“I can run and run, as fast as I can, but he always catches me, ‘cause he is in my head!” the girl with death-colored hair, sitting to my right said with changing volumes. She talked for a while before I noticed, busying myself with the pattern of her speech” whisper, whisper, whisper, screech, for every word. I giggled to myself, the way she put it, made it sound like the gingerbread man story turned horror flick. She kept talking, babbling on about how “he” was to blame for her being here. Continuing my focus on tuning the girl I named Scary Eyes out, I decided to take a better look at her. Her body was slight, though striking in its muscular structure, incased in glowing porcelain skin.

As I examined her closer, my eyes shot wide at her arms, covered with scars. Parallel lines, intersecting at various angles, hearts, X’s and misshapen welts adorned her otherwise perfect skin. Looking down at my arm, I traced my fingers over my own historical markers of every single unbecoming emotion I ever felt.

Feeling the inevitable panic coming, I tried to climb back into myself, completely unsuccessful.

“Taylor, would you like to comment on I’bell’s story? You look upset.” Andrea, the staff who was running group today, questioned. Her voice’s brassy tone made me

Fountain-Overton 2
want to fall into her arms, let myself be comforted, and slow my racing heart. But human contact was forbidden here in lockdown.

So this girl’s name is I’bell, huh? I thought to myself. Since Andrea had brought me to girl’s attention, I decided to study her face. Once again, I was taken aback. I’bell’s face hypnotized me. Her eyes, the deepest shade of emerald that ever did exist, were not scary at all. No, they were dazzling. The porcelain that covered her arms also became present on her angel face. The most shocking part was not her sheer beauty, but that I never even guessed that such a horrid, fragile expression could go on such a face.

I noticed everything about her, even the stupid things. At first, I felt like blushing, thinking of it as no more than attraction. There was something about this girl, I’bell, that made my eyes trace down her body, memorizing every line of her. My eyes eventually rested back on their starting point. On her arms, the perfect porcelain of them, cracked so violently.

In that one moment, I understood my perplexment by her body. I spoke the only words I could utter out, before I imploded.

“She is what I am becoming…” My consciousness was then lost