She draws a crude approximation of an eye – outlining the pupil and iris with subtle abandon. The nose is crooked. The skin is pasty and thin, sagging with leaden guilt; the lips curled back in a smile. It almost tears, being stretched so.
Imagine blankness, pure blankness. Imagine this purity being stained with such a creature – a flood of bile. Imagine wearing it – how it would make your insides sick to sustain it. Your old tissues would rot away leaving only the misshapen surface. You’re stuck with a sadistically applied smile and nothing to break through the naked enamel.
There are two possible outcomes: Mutilation – either self-applied or otherwise provoked in another, or repair – most likely achieved by a noble or highly motivated individual willing to rip away the surface and begin the process anew.
