Short Stories.

Part 7: Beauty

This ones a bit weird, but yea it works kinda ig? They knew she could see because she made a comment on how something looked or something.

She stared at her face in the mirror, the sheen of glass a painful reminder of what she could never be, what she once was.
 She gently strokes her own face, not wanting to touch something so grotesque.
  It was disgusting, just as they all said. They had all been brave enough to make themselves beautiful. They deserve the pleasure, they had taken the pain.
 Her mum had begged her to ignore them, not to mess up as she had. But... her mother was happy. Happier than she had ever been. She was beautiful and she knew it. She was always smiling, and was unable to judge.
   Just like everyone at her school.
    She lifts the razor up, placing it into the corner of her mouth. The dull ache as she rips through her cheek causes tears, and she can feel them healing her wounds. As she does the other cheek, she knows how to make herself pretty on the inside too.
   She lifts the mini knife to her eye, slicing across. It hurts. It burns. But, beauty was worth it. True beauty on the inside and out.
    She does her other eye, and feels a sense of peace. Finally, she fit it. Finally, she was beautiful.
 Inside, and out, no matter how broken.