Created By Man | Teen Ink

Created By Man

June 21, 2018
By annesims BRONZE, N/a, California
annesims BRONZE, N/a, California
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

    I am beautiful, but to them, I am a monster.

    I walk through each row of desks. They are pillars that are going to topple over me with one wrong step. The room becomes silent and the radiant colors on the wall seem to fade. My peers watch me. Their false eyes of blue, green, and pink mean to swallow me whole and throw me into desolation. Their twisted red lips are revulsed.

    I settle into my assigned desk. The coldness of the glossy, wood surface attack the warmth of my hands. This is the safest spot in the room. Their eyes burn a hole into my back, wanting me to split open. I lower my head, longing that the attention would be taken away from me.

    It has never worked.

    “Listen up. It’s time to start the day.” Mr. Hephaestus walks toward the front. The rainbow wall behind him is so incredibly brilliant that it makes my eyes hurt.

He wears a bright pink suit and his face is just as eccentric. He owns big bold lips of scarlet and artificial ruby pupils. This is not unusual, but I see it as just that.

    I feel their eyes leave my back and go towards him.

    I touch my own face. I feel the shapes of my bare skin. No red lips. No artificial lashes. My are eyebrows completely natural. I feel safe in my skin, though it is different from theirs.

    “Today we’re going to listen to a recording given to us by our most beloved President Kelly. No video. You know how he values his privacy. ” The teacher’s eyes lay on me, though he was talking to the whole class. His eyes are a sea of fire that want to burn me. They want to sear off my imperfections and make me flawless.

Or what they thought that was supposed to be.

    “Emma. Why are you not wearing your face again?” His monotone voice is deceitful. “This is a respected institute.”

    I have never felt the coldness of lipstick. Nor do I want to feel it.

    His rouged lips glower upon me, as everyone’s did. My bare face shows them who I truly am, but only rejection follows my tracks. This sham is their truth.

    “I’m beautiful like this.” I stated, determined that it would change something. Hoping the heart inside of them would finally beat.

    The class begins to laugh. Someone yells out. They were hyenas waiting to catch their prey. The absurdness appalls me that I bring hate on their face, but also joy.

    “Now you know, how beautiful you really are.” His monotone voice seemingly only capable of hate. It’s something I have gotten used to.

“This is a lesson to all. Don’t come out of your house without your face. Let’s continue on with today.” He walks over to his desk. The only thing on it was the teaching box. The teacher was not to do anything, but click buttons and scold ugly students.

He is a factory worker.

A broken record. Say this. Push that. Do it again.

Nothing inspiring from what he said nor empowering. He is only a thread from which we are connected to the president. A middleman. Mr. Hephaestus presses a button behind the box.

The deep and soothing voice begins to emerge from a speaker I cannot not see. It was the President’s voice. The teacher sits down and stares at the students, watching if they are listening. Sending me the usual dirty look.

“Hello, students. Beauty has great significance in our culture. We must cherish our history and virtues, because it is what makes us who we are. Beautiful people. It is important to wear your face everyday…” his tranquil voice fills the room like a virus. The class is diseased. I try to drown out his voice. To me it is a nuisance that makes my ears to scream for peace. Everything is about good looks.

Everyone must be beautiful.

Hideousness is not an option.

I look toward the wall beside me. There are posters everywhere. Pinks and blues and greens are sprawled across the multicolored wall. I focus my eyes on one particular one that is brighter than the others. It said--

BEAUTY IS POWER. YOU WEAR IT.

A woman and a man are drawn on it. They wear bright red on their mouths. Their brows arched. Their lashes reach their foreheads. They are the epitome of what I am supposed to be.

What everyone is supposed to be.

What everyone must be.

    “...for those of you that have no face on currently, it recently has been decided that it will be illegal to do so. Public indecency will not be tolerated in any place...” My head turns toward the voice. He had said public indecency with a sort of whisper as if it was a filthy word, wanting it out of his mouth, and as if it was not said in usual circumstances.

He must not know my circumstances.

I meet my teacher’s eyes and he has the smirk of a million foxes on his face. I feel the eyes on my back once more. They are vicious now, dangerous. The classroom suddenly becomes tense.

The rebellion in my blood boils.

“How do you even know that he means that?” I called, looking around the class, “How do you even know if  he exists?”

“Shut your mouth!” someone yells from the room.

“Have you ever seen him?” I point towards the teaching box, unsure if that was where his voice came from, “Have you? Have any of you?”

The class is quiet, but still sizzling.

“He’s not real. You just like what you hear. All of you.”

“Shut up.” another voice in the room says under their breath.

“You listen to this fraud every, single, day. Do you all believe in Santa Claus too?”

    Mr. Hephaestus grabs the caller attached to the power bank on the wall, kept together with a spiraling cord. He keeps the eye contact. He puts the rectangular machine in front of his face, and pushes in the three fatal numbers.

    9-1-1

    I rise from my chair.

    “Hello, there’s something that I must report. It’s urgent. It seems that a crime is being committed.” His voice is a mallet dropping down on me. I turn my body, and their eyes follow me as I rush to the door. Their hands try and grab me, but I am swifter than them.

    “...Beauty is power. You wear it.” is the last thing I hear from the audio as I close the door behind me. His voice leaves an echo within my head. A warning.

    All at once, the alarm rings.

    Beep!

    Beep!

    Beep!

    Run, the adrenaline rushing through my body screams at me.

    “Code White! Code White! Lockdown!” The speaker blared. A tremendous weight suddenly rests on my frail shoulders.

    My feet begin to go from under me.

    The long hallways grow longer, as they fly beside me. The greens and blues and pinks of the walls become a blur of gray. The alarm continues to fill my ears, making my head go mad. I hear the doors I pass ‘click’ in every step. They shut me out.

    It’s physical this time.

The bright light engulfs me as I reach the end of the long hall. I stop in my tracks. Before me, the giant chain link fence that encircled the campus. The fence is about thirty feet tall. It stares at me challengingly.

The cold air bites my skin, though the sun is high in the sky. The irksome blaring that continues in the air shows me my fate, if I do not move.

I walk toward the gate, hoping it was still open. I grab the cold, metal bar and I push it with all the force my body allowed.

It won’t open.

Frantically, I try over and over. There’s no use. Beyond the alarm, I hear running behind me. Questions float in my head. There is no time to think.

I must get out.

The thought slams into my brain.

Climb.

I grab one of the links intertwined with the fence. The metal is rough in my hand, but I need to do this. I lift myself up and make my way up the thirty foot fence. Slowly, but surely.

The footsteps are getting closer. My heart pounds in my chest. Determination shakes within my bones. For all I know, evil could be a second away to cutting my thread.

The wind slaps me in the face, moving my short hair towards my eyes and nose. I reach from link to link. They are my hope now. My thoughts focused entirely on this moment.

Climb.

Climb.

Climb.

I am almost at the top. I try to calm down the excitement within me. I needed to focus. I force the boots running toward me out of my head and I trudge on. My fingertips are close to feeling almost nothing at all. The cold is also angry at me. It wants me to fall into destruction just like the rest of them. Of course, I don’t aim to.

My breaths become heavy and the fog coming out of my mouth is warm on my lips. I wish I was warm. I wish I was home. I wish I wasn’t here.

My hands tell me that there are no more diamonds to grab, and it also feels as if they’re a moment away from falling off. I swipe the hair out of my face, and there I was.

The top of the fence.

    I stare into the distance, the lush forest directly in front of the school, the neighborhoods, and the buildings beyond it, all under me. I feel a great sensation of freedom. All of the people hiding within them, are just part of the picture. They are one with the scenery. Never to be the center of attention. Everyone the same. The world is bright and full of color, but the people are bland and tasteless. The faces they wear are the only sign of some kind of humanity within them. I never needed a face to prove my humanity. I was a working vessel, they are all empty.

    I will never be like them.

    The wind touches my face, trying to push me down. I hold my ground. I dare not move. I then realize, the footsteps had stopped. I look behind me, a foreboding feeling.

    “GET DOWN! GET DOWN NOW!” A soldier looks towards me. There are about ten of them. They wear their utterly useless colorful camouflage uniforms, meaning they were always ready for a fight. No matter who it could be. From a serial killer to a bare faced sixteen-year-old. They are trained for anything.

    It was again time to move.

    I make my way down toward the ground, backwards. I use my foot to feel the diamonds that are there to aid me in my escape.

Suddenly, the fence from under me shakes. I look back at where the motion comes from.

It’s them.

They’re following me.

    I don’t stop in my haste. I continue in a quicker movement. I have gotten a bit more used to the feeling of the fence. My hands clench the diamonds tighter, because my life has become the greatest possession in this moment.

    Nobody ever really thinks about how precious life is until danger slaps you in the face and says hello.

    Down I go with curious thoughts swirling in my mind.

    Down.

    Down.

    Down.

There is no time. They’re catching up on me, and I can’t stay on the fence much longer. The cold gnaws on my fingers now, they want a meal out of me. I take one breath.

    And I let go.

    My feet hit the ground first. The electricity of the fall reaches my head. I look back at the soldiers, and give them a smirk. It’s now me who is the fox.

    I turn and I run. I hear their shouts and yells from behind me. I run into the forest right in front of the school. A place where I could easily hide.

    I head into the trees. The shadows engulf me, they take me into the wings that are their branches. I hear footsteps behind me once more. I stop in an area surrounded with lots of green. I hide behind a giant, old tree and peek to see if anyone is coming. I brush my cold fingers on the frail wood, waiting its turn to be with its friends on the ground.

    There are footsteps.

    I see them, a crowd of blues, greens, and pinks. They rush into the trees, seemingly lost. It was written all over their faces. They rush through me, not seeing me behind the giant tree. My breaths begin to relax.

    “You look so beautiful.” a voice said. I swirl around. There is no one behind me, but the giant trees that dare not sway with the wind. The light reaches the forest floor and makes the morning dew on the grass twinkle. Tiny murmurs hide behind the trees.

    I walk toward them and the sound grows louder. I make my way through them and there is a clearing. Two small girls sit on the ground. They wear radiantly colored dresses. One was smaller and one was taller.

“Oh, that color looks so good on you.” the taller one cooed. She proceeds to fix the little one’s hair.

“It feels so good on my lips!” the smaller one has a smile on her lips.

“Next year, you can wear it all the time. You can’t yet, you’re only five.” the tall one reassures her.

Accidentally, in furthering my step, I make a sound with my clothes against the tree next to me. Both of them look towards me, and I quickly retire back to where I once was. The dense greenery.

The girl was too young to be wearing her face.

Too fragile.

Her innocence would soon be washed away with the blues, greens, and pinks I drown in.

I walk out of my hiding place, and through the trees toward the neighborhood in the distance. The light shines on my face and warms me. The birds sing.

I think about the birds. The freedom they harbor. Spreading their wings whenever they please, and playing with the wind.

Whenever I watch them, it always seemed as if they owned a secret. I yearned to know that secret. The secret of being loved for the naturalness of the face you own.

They are not judged by how they look and their only service in life is to survive.

I wish to join them.

The neighborhood grows closer. The pink houses are next to blue houses, which are next to green houses. Colors are splashed on the walls, and the glitter on them are easily noticed. My feet step onto the rainbow sidewalk and my eyes find my house.

My house is the gray one on the last block.

It’s the happiest place in the neighborhood. I walk towards it. The grass is dead and the paint falls off the wall.

I knock on the rusty door. I hear steps behind it and a lock turning open. The door creaks open.

It’s Mama.

She has a soft gaze. Time weakened her face and made it frail. The wrinkles on her face are apparent, but she is still beautiful. A strong beauty is not killed so easily.

Mama is the one I always go to, for anything. She listens to everything I have to say. It’s as of she always had the answer ready in her front pocket. Always ready to to bring it out and wash out the worries I always have.

I want to so badly to tell her. To ask her.

What am I supposed to do now?

“Why are you home so early, dear?” Her face is pale, no color. Her eyes are wide, and confused.

“Something’s happened. I don’t know what to do, Mama, and I don’t know if we have a lot of time.” My voice comes out frantic, all the energy I held in jumps out of me.

“Well, come inside. I’m sure we could figure it out.”

Mama opens the door wider so I could go in. I go in and the warmth of the room made me tremble. The living room has a homely aura to it, though it’s almost empty. The only thing in it is two couches, a coffee table, and a screen that faces the furniture.

There are two doors leading to our shared bedroom and bathroom close by the living room. A light emerges from the bedroom, the window is open.

“Now, just give me a second. We’ll talk in just a moment. Why don’t you settle down first. You look spooked! Calm down! You’re home!” Mama walks into the kitchen.

The kitchen beside the living room has something cooking. Mama is back at the stove, her moving arm shows that she stirs something. The only light in the combined rooms that’s on is the tiny kitchen light. It hangs from a makeshift hanger above the stove. The only other furniture in the kitchen is the small table and beside the two foldable chairs.

We’re happy with this colorless, cheerful place.

“Mama…” I started.

All at once, there was a pounding on the door.

My heart leaps out of my chest.

Mama went to the door, looking toward the eyehole on the door. Slowly, she turns around. Horror just slapped her in the face.

“Why are they here…? Is this what you wanted to talk about?” her voice a songbird who just got her wings cut.

“I’m sorry Mama…” my voice came out as if it isn’t mine. It’s too soft.

“What happened Em?”

I lick my lips, to prepare what I was to say next.

“They said it’s illegal now, being bare.”

“We need to wear the face now? Legally?”

“Public indecency, Kelly said so.”

Mama makes her way toward the almost unusable couches in the living room and sits down. She looks straight for a while, I can tell she’s thinking hard, even though I only see the back of her head. We always knew what each other felt. I know her like the back of my hand.

“Mama, I...I think we might have to run away.” I go toward her, grabbing her arm, still in her trance.

“Where do we go?”

“Somewhere, anywhere. Any place that’s… not like this.”

“There’s no such place.”

“Where’s the hope if we talk like that? That can’t be true.”

“We can’t do that. I’m telling you, there’s no such place.” Mama turns her head towards me. A sort of solemn expression. The hope within me begins to falter.

    “I don’t believe you. It’s just not possible. Anywhere? There isn’t a place? Mama don’t you understand? It’s not safe here anymore! I… I’m wanted now.” I raise my voice, and adrenaline begins to spike through me once again. Desperation entwines within it.

    “Believe me, dear. I’ve tried.”

She proceeds stand up and quickly go to the open bathroom door, by the bedroom.

There is silence.

I then hear clutter being pushed around.

“Hello! We know you’re in there! Open up!” The masculine voice yells from behind our door.

I hurry into the bathroom to see what Mama’s doing. I stop in my tracks when I look into her reflection. My heart stops along with my stream of consciousness. Everything comes to a sudden halt.

Mama’s lips are red.

She turns around and faces me, a sad look in her eyes. She walks toward me and forces the black, small cylinder into my palm. I am too frozen to understand what’s happening, my brain explodes from within me, yet still I am intact.

“I’m not letting them take you, take us.” her voice shakes, “I’ve seen what they do to people that are sentenced ugly.”

“Why…” My lips can’t move.

“We need to survive, maybe it’s time for us to...to just do what they say. Every place is the same. There’s nowhere to run, or hide.”

“I don’t…” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Just put it on Emma! Just...just put it on.”

“I’ll be ugly, Mama. I’ll be so ugly.” I feel the tears streaming down my eyes as they touch hers. They were alive, but scared. I’ve never seen her brown eyes quake in fear as they did now.

“Listen to me, listen. I’ve been bare for almost all of my life. It’s made me feel free, but this world…” she points to the door, “they’ll never accept us.”

“Mama, what’s wrong with you?”

“I want to live! I want...I want to live. This might be my second chance. Our second chance. Live a better life. That’s death on our doorstep, baby girl. That’s death, I can smell it.”

“I don’t want to live if it’s like this!” I put the lipstick in front of her face, “That stuff on your lips goes against everything you made me, Mama! Now you’re going to throw it all away!”

“I’m tired of being shunned. I’ve got all this money, but no one will take it, because I’m so awful looking! I’m tired. I’m just so tired.”

“I was happy being shunned if you were there with me, Mama.”

“I’m not happy anymore, Emma. To them we’re dead.”

“No! We’re the only ones with breath in our lungs around here! They’re taking it away! They’re taking everything in your life that has meaning,” I glare and get closer to her face,“and you don’t even care.”

“You’re wrong.”

Everything goes silent. And it’s the loudest sound I’ve ever heard. To me, it spoke volumes and created caves within my body. Caves that lead me into the horrible, horrible truth. I didn’t know that a monster slept under the same roof as me. Feeding me special words and special thoughts that one day, this day, she will break them and smash them and step on them.

I am bleeding on the floor and she doesn’t even care.

Her words are twisted. I don’t know when that started. And I don’t know when she started thinking like that. Maybe she’s already been that way. The truth that I am the only happy one is what pinches my heart the hardest.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Put this on so we can finally live a better life, they’ll have mercy on us, and we can start over. All of this isn’t worth it. I thought it was, but not anymore. We’ve never been a match for them. The two of us, ha! Who was I kidding? That’s always how it’s been. We can live a better life, you’d like that right? A pretty blue house. A two story one, if you’d like that.” Mama looks at my hand, and I know she tells the truth. It’s a voice she almost never used. I’ve only heard it once. It’s the voice she used as Papa shut the door for the last time.

A fist bangs on the door once more.

A sigh emerges from my lips. It’s not worth fighting those people. Mama’s right. Suddenly, all the strength in me flies away, and I wish it took me with it. Yet, I’m still here, facing the reality that puts its sharp metal blade along my throat.

“Okay, Mama.”

“You’ll always be beautiful, Emma. To me, you’ll always be beautiful.” Her face brightens. She runs out of the bathroom.

It’s funny. I finally know Mama’s real thoughts. We should be closer now.

But, why does it feel like I’m the loneliest girl in the world?

I turn towards the mirror, slowly. I look at the bleak thing in my hands, and pop off the top. The sleek redness had a sharp tip, almost brand new.

She had been keeping this, because she knew.

She knew this day would come.

I hear the door bust open.

Through the mirror I watch my shivering hand, holding poison, come towards my quivering lip, the cold tip of the red stick touches my mouth.

I put a streak of bloody, scarlet on the pinkness.

I hear the front door burst open. There’s yelling. Mama’s scream grabs me by the throat.

The tears won’t stop falling, there was something foreign that tries to get a hold of me. It wants to be with me. It longs to intertwine with who I am. My strength away from me, it was succeeding.

The redness is cold, the warmth of my body is being taken from me..

I became one of them.

In the mirror, clear as day in this desolate room, it isn’t me.

I became a monster.

 

 

   


 

           


   


The author's comments:

People should recognize their own beauty and not some artificial beauty that culture predestined us to be.


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