Picture Perfect

"Outer beauty pleases the eye. Inner beauty captivates the heart."

Every teenage girl wants to be pretty, and that's exactly what Alex is.

Flat stomach, size zero, flawless skin, silky hair, gorgeous green eyes.

Perfection is the definition of Alex's life. She lives every girl's dream: beautiful, the most popular girl in school, a hot boyfriend, not to mention so much money she doesn't know what to do with it.

It's the start of a new school year. She has just landed a modeling job with one of the most famous fashion designers. Life couldn't be going better for her.

So what happens when an unfortunate accident turns her life upside down?


13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

My face. “MY FACE!” I shrieked out loud.

My eyes were two black and blue splotches, one so swollen it was the size of a golf ball. A white bandage covered the bridge of my nose and my lip looked as if I recently got an injection. Slashes of crimson decorated my cheeks and forehead, held together with numerous butterfly stitches like tiny cracks in a porcelain doll. Except my skin was far from a smooth, white doll’s; it was a minefield of dark blues, blacks and reds.  However, I noticed none of this, for I could not take my eyes from the long scarlet fissure that had gashed through my eyebrow, down across my eye and ended at the corner of my mouth. My hands shook as I reached up and gingerly traced bright red line.

I heard the door fly open.

“What’s going on in here?! Where’s the patient?!” A flurry of white lab coats flew into the room. The doctors and nurses’ heads scanned the room frantically. They rushed to my side, eyes wide in fear.

“What’s the matter?! Are you alright?!”

A strangled sob escaped my lips, “Do I look alright?!” I hid my wrapped face in my hands.

“Are you in pain?” One of them asked.

I thought it  was clear that I was in pain from the teardrops streaking my face, but apparently not. As soon as the doctors and nurses realized I wasn’t in extreme physical pain at the moment, all of them left but one, saying she would talk to me. She led me back over to the bed and sat me down, carting my IV behind me. I couldn’t stop my sobbing, and still kept my head buried in my hands. The bed creaked as she sat down next to me. I stared down at the floor between my legs, ignoring the pain in my abdomen and watching the salty water from my eyes spatter the blue floor tiles.

The nurse rested a hand upon my back. There was a lull in my bawling and I managed to speak through my sniffles.

“Wha-w-w-what happened t-to me?”

“You were hit by a car, sweetie.” She rubbed my back in little circles. “You broke a couple of ribs, your nose and fractured your hip and both of your legs…”

“B-b-but… My f-face?” I whispered.

She exhaled and her hand ceased its motion. “You went straight through a greenhouse along with the car. We had to remove all of the glass first, and then stitch the deep lacerations across your face from the shards. The wrappings are to prevent any possible infection. My weeping turned back into convulsive gasps.

“No…. No. Nononononononono.” I shook my head as if the motion would make all of this go away.

“You, know, it could be worse.” The nurse said. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“NO! Don’t fucking t-tell me i-i-it could be worse! You have n-n-no Goddamn idea what I’m g-g-g-go-,” I swallowed, “going through! my life is RUINED!”


There were flowers on my bedside table again this morning for the second day in a row. It was a bouquet of wild flowers that looked handpicked. None of the nurses knew who brought them though. I’m guessing it was Dylan.

Apparently I’d been at the hospital for a week, knocked out cold from the accident. It had been two days since I woke up. No one from school came to visit me yet. At least not since I’d been conscious.  Dylan never came either... Which is odd since he left me flowers. Anyway, my friends must not’ve known something happened, or maybe my mom didn’t want Dylan to get too upset if he visited me…

My mother came in to see me shortly after when I woke up when the nurse called her. She gave me a card from my dad the said “Get well soon, Pumpkin!” that was covered in flowers. The note inside was clearly not written by him, most likely his secretary, and there was a stamp of his signature below it. Lovely.

My mom visited me often, most days she spent with me. She’d lug her easel to the hospital and spend the day just talking and painting. It was boring as hell most of the time. All of the doctors encouraged me to stay in bed to “quicken my recovery”. Like I’d ever recover from this.

Sitting on my bed, I fiddled with the fresh white bandages on my hands. I only partially remembered the previous night. I had gotten up to use the bathroom. When I went to wash my hands I saw the horrible reflection staring back at me, a hideous beast. Shards of glass embedded themselves in my hands as I smashed the shimmering surface with all of my might. The nurse covered up all the reflective surfaces with towels. It reminds me of all those little safety mechanisms people buy for their kids, like locks for cabinets and rubber corners on side tables.

“We just need to do a quick little trip down the hall for an assessment.” One of the nameless nurses starts to unfold a wheelchair. “It’ll be nice and quick, over in a jiffy!”

Oh God, what is with these people and quick? And jiffy? The only thing jiffy is now is a peanut butter.

She grabbed me under my arm and began to hoist me up. “Hey, cut it out! I can handle myself!” I swatted her arm and a bolt of pain streaked through my shoulder. I immediately clutched it in agony.


“Just let me help you!”

“How about you just fuck off?! I’m fine!” I wiped away the tears that were beginning to pool in the corner of my eyes, both from physical and emotional pain.

“You don’t understand! My life is ruined! Look at my fucking face!” I stood and got all up in her face despite the pain screaming in every limb of my body.

“Look at it!” Her eyes went wide. She looked terrified. The nurse scurried out of my room after that. I had scared her away. I guess I was a monster. I held my head in my hands.

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