Living the Truth

Stretching, I fluff the soft, defined curls around my smooth face.

"Good morning."

I turn to my sister, aware of my smiling lips and eyes. "Good morning."

"You look pretty this morning," she says. "Your eyes are so striking."

"Thanks," I smile, running my hand over my even, oval face and showing my perfect set of white teeth. She returns the smile and pokes the end of my cute little button nose.

I hum cheerfully as I prepare for school, finding some earrings that color-coordinate with my cute new shirt. Before class, I see my friend.

She notices me and a broad smile lights her face. "Hi!" She runs to meet me and wraps her arms around me. "You're looking cute today," she says, patting my face. "How are you doing?"

"Good," I reply. "I'm doing well. How about you?"

"Uh...okay," she replies. Surprised, I look at her bright face and smiling eyes. She looks like she is doing well, I think. Strange.

When I leave her, she hugs me again. "Thanks," she says. "You're such a good friend. No one else noticed I was upset."

"It's nothing," I smile, turning to enter my class.

"You're late," the professor calls from the far corner.

Slipping into my usual seat at the front, I nod. "I am sorry."

The old man's wrinkled face turns to the check in sheet with a little grin. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you had a good reason."

The day passes quickly, full of encounters with classmates and coworkers, with friends and family.

"You're making great improvement," my blonde-haired manager says. "Keep up the good work!" She picks up her enveloping mustard green bag. "See you tomorrow!"

"Sure thing!" I reply, turning to close the register.

When I get home, my dad asks me, "How was your day?"

"Good," I reply.

Heading upstairs, I shut the bedroom door behind me. Pulling at the roots of my hair, I peel off my mask and hang it on the plastic red hook.

Turning to the irregular broken bit of mirror behind me, I put back on my smile that I have allowed to fade. It does not match my eyes, which are some nondescript color as well as bloodshot red. Sighing, I take up a cloth lying on the floor and wipe the moisture off the back of my mask.

"People really like you," I tell it. I gaze into its bright eyes. "You're beautiful."

Slowly, I hang it again on its hook and turn to climb into bed.

6:30 wakes me up, and I slip off my bed without using the ladder. I go straight to the hook and lift that smiling mask.

Don't.

I startle as if the voice spoke aloud.

Leave it.

Quietly turning to stand before that mirror shard, I hold the mask of me up beside my sleepy face. I look into the  bright, happy eyes beside me and then gaze steadily into the tired, still-red ones edged by tiny, thin lashes in the mirror. I run my hand over the freckled skin dotted with red and pick at my chin till I must wipe blood away.

You don't need it.

I frown at the high cheekbones of my squarish face over my fingerprinted, crooked glasses. I note my wrinkled scar between my eyes, the odd pulling in at the corner of my lips, my almost-double chin, my grayish hair, and weird, almost Asian-looking eyes. Through my fake smile, I look at my straight teeth, yellowish from bad habits.

The vision of my friend's smile as she hugs me tightly, looks into my eyes, and says, "You're so pretty," fills my mind.

I look into them, with dark circles beneath, shudder, and press on my mask, carefully sealing each edge.

I'm sorry, I whisper. I have to. Or they'll know who I really am.

"...God is light and in Him is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin..." 1 John 1:5-7