I Just Want to Be Pretty

I remember the first time I saw Sarah. Her hair sparkled, her skin smooth, and she had it together - poise, demeanor, and style.

My eyes followed her as she waltzed through the college. Sarah barely noticed me as she was accosted by the gaggle of beautiful girls who wanted her to be a part of their group.

I had hated my hair since I could remember - it was thin and lank, with no bounce to it. My eyes were dark and filled with an emptiness as if a black hole had collapsed inwards.

I tried my best to copy Sarah's style. I dyed my hair, which was a disaster. Patchy and orange, not the baby blonde she had. I could never apply makeup the same as her - panda eyes and stubby eyelashes were not a good look.

Her nose was cute and feminine and her lips a perfect pink pout.

How could I ever be like her? I inherited my dad's features - strong and masculine jaw, nose, and brow bone. I would never be as popular as her, and it really brought me down.

A few months later, and walking along the campus road, there were flyers littering every streetlight and wall, asking for any information about Sarah, as she had been missing for three weeks. All the pretty girls were huddled together crying.

I unlocked my dorm bedroom and ripped off the Sarah flyer from my door, went straight to my closet and pulled out my small trunk, unlocked it and took out my prized possession. I put it on and instantly felt a hundred times better. I could only wear it inside my room, with the door locked and bolted, as other people would just make fun of me if I wore it outside.

I glanced at my reflection, and smiled. My dark eyes were sparkling, and I had the perfect pink pout. Sarah's face looked so good on me, and her baby blonde hair cascaded delicately around my shoulders and back. I was my best work so far, and it showed. Skinning her face and scalp off took precision and skill, but it was my best attempt so far. Please don't think I'm a terrible person though! I didn't kill her!

I performed the skinning on her, and left her alive. Maybe it would take a while to find her way out from where I left her, but one day she would. The generator room wasn't far, and it would be easy to climb out from the disused tank. I looked out for her daily, so I could thank her.

Taking off her face, I placed it back in the trunk, and sealed it back in its hermetic bag. I counted the bags I had in there now - 5! I could chop and change what face I wanted to wear. I was so grateful to those five girls that generously gave me their faces as I would never be as pretty as them otherwise.