Beauty

by Patria L. Dunn (Patria Dunn-Rowe)

  I was no longer watching the clock. My eyes were fixed on the massive blob in the mirror. Legs skewed, belly heaving, I looked like three layers of beach balls piled on top of each other. Dull brown eyes met mine in the mirror, and I cringed as the tears finally escaped. The only pretty thing about me was the shoulder length hair on my head, blonde highlights gracing dark brown locks. I’d donated more than ten inches of hair the summer before I started college, and my mother had insisted on a new look for my new beginning. She was right. The highlights did bring out the tone of my skin. Sun kissed despite my efforts to stay out of the sun and keep as much of me covered as possible. That little thought made me cry harder. Pretty hair did nothing to dull the pain I was feeling. Why me? Why wasn’t I born skinny? Why did I have to be so fat? So ugly…?

  I hadn’t seen myself naked in years. I closed my eyes when I dressed, and I was always careful not to let my hands smooth over my body. Looking in the mirror now, I felt sick, my eyes traveling from the tiny rolls in my neck, down my thick arms and over my swollen belly. I couldn’t even see my womanhood without leaning back and spreading my thighs, and even then the unkempt mass of curls between my legs hid what I refused to acknowledge unless I was on my period. I was too fat to reach down there and shave it off like all the skinny girls around here did. Some of them even shaved each other, not at all embarrassed if you walked in on them doing it in the communal bathroom.

  “Who would ever want you?!” I sneered at the mirror through a snob, my eyes closing on the pathetic looking blob splayed on the floor.

  Those six feet under kind of screams I mentioned earlier… They were back with a vengeance now, my body curling into a fetal like position as I lay down on the carpet, my head against the closet door. I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t do it anymore. But I needed the pain to go away. I’d promised myself the same thing last week and the week before that, but still I reached for the box hidden between the closet and my desk. I didn’t need to look to pull out what my fingers sought. Pain shot through my hand, and I didn’t even flinch as I pulled the shiny razor free, bright red blood already trickling from the quarter inch slice on my index finger.

  This was new. I’d never watched myself cut before. I usually waited until I knew everyone was in bed, and the lights were out. But no one was here. They were all out celebrating. I could barely feel it in my hand it weighed so little. My chubby fingers handled it expertly, turning the blade so that it was positioned in between my thumb and bloody index finger. On my elbow, I heaved myself into a sitting position, my tears shooting downward instead of sideways now with the sudden change in direction.

  “You’re FAT!” I screamed, my voice raw with emotion as I brought the razor down hard across my bare thigh.

  Glistening brown eyes stared back at me in the mirror, and I spat at the pity filled face that seemed to be weeping for me.

  “You’re UGLY!” I sobbed, swiping the blade across my thigh again, this time my gaze on the two separate trickles of blood making their way down in between my legs and onto the carpet.

  Seven partially healed pale white lines seem to glare at me, the flesh beneath pinkening as I squeezed a handful of my thigh in my hand. The blood ran faster this way and I finally exhaled on a ragged sigh, the razor poised once more.

  “You don’t deserve to live…” I whispered, pressing harder than I ever had before.

  The razor sunk into my skin as if it were cutting soft butter. I watched it, the heavy pain in my chest suddenly transferred to the oozing wound I’d inflicted upon myself. My inability to be happy and skinny, June’s 4 am intrusion, Brice’s invitation to tonight’s party, my sheet falling from the mirror, seeing myself naked for the first time in forever…I released it all, the razor sliding deeper and across until it was halfway buried. The screams were muffled again, hiding somewhere in the back of my fuzzied thoughts, waiting once more for clarity.

  My eyes closed and I lay back on the carpet, concentrating on the warm wetness that continued to seep free from each cut. This was a pain that I could control. This was me handling everything else I couldn’t handle. My tears continued but I was too tired to wipe them away. In the morning, it would all be a little better.

  **********

  “Open the door Evelyn. I know you’re in there!”

  I was picking flowers. I’d heard Danny Thompson say that he liked the yellow ones. I couldn’t wait to give them to him. I’d spent all of recess gathering a whole bunch of them just for him. A wide smile on my face, I entered the classroom in a single file line behind the rest of the second graders. He sat just in front of me and I slid them on top of his open folder just as he sat down.

  “These are for you Danny,” I smiled, suddenly shy as the rest of the class seemed to grow quiet, their attention on the two of us.

  Something was wrong. Everything was spinning, faces blurring when I turned to see who was laughing. One hard hit to my shoulder and I stumbled backwards, the screech of the metal desks legs scraping against the floor as Danny landed on top of me, his face twisted in anger.

  What had I done?!

  “Don’t you ever give me anything again you fat slob!” Danny screamed, whaling on my soft stomach like a punching bag.

  I was all flailing arms and legs, my screams growing louder and louder until I could no longer hear the laughter that seemed to be coming from everyone now.

  “Don’t! STOP! Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaasssssseee!”

  “Evelyn! I’m coming in!”

  My eyes jerked open, my thoughts disoriented as the dream scattered, my cheeks hot from the memory.

  “Hold on Evelyn…I’m coming!”

  Brice! His voice was panicked… What was he doing here!?!?!

  A quick glance at the clock and I was thankful to see that it was now 10:45 pm. That should have meant that Brice had went on without me, but no…he was here…beating in my door.

  Oh Shit!

  I rolled sideways, the fallen beach towel tangling around my legs as I lunged for the bed, on my knees now. Fuck! Something hurt… I grabbed at my thigh, only to realize that I hadn’t removed the razor before falling asleep. I picked it free now, tossing it under my bed and out of sight.

  “Brice…don’t come in! I’m fine!” I shrieked, my breath already short from the burst of energy expended without preparation.

  “Evelyn? Hold on…I almost got the lock..”

  Fuck!

  I hadn’t picked out pajamas or underwear to throw on after my shower. I heaved myself up by the side of the bed, snatching the skirt I’d worn earlier and stepping into it. I used the towel to wipe the fresh blood that had started to ooze again in my haste, bunching it over my naked chest and stomach just as Brice burst in the door.

  “Get out!” I screamed in horror, my eyes on his face as he looked wildly about my tiny room.

  “I…I…heard you screaming. I thought…”

  “Well you thought wrong!” I spat, pointing at my open door, and then at him. “Get the fuck out!” I hissed, the towel clenched so tightly in my hand now my fingers were starting to go numb.

  “You don’t have a roommate…” Brice murmured looking over to the stripped bed on the other side of the room, ignoring my demand.

  “She dropped out after first semester…now get out!” I repeated, desperation in my voice now as I crossed the room, shoving him backwards.

  He stumbled on the welcome rug I had just inside the door, his hands reaching to steady himself. Horror ripped through me as his fingers closed on the towel, jerking it from my clenched hands as he landed on his back in the shared living room. His eyes widened as he took in my naked breasts and bulging belly, amusement in his features.

  The screams were back, my head throbbing as heat and invisible pain shot through my entire body. I was shaking, my feet unable to move at my command back through the door, into safety. He was standing upright in a flash, reaching for me until I swatted at him, one arm over my chest.

  “How dare you!” I shouted, g
rabbing my door and swinging it as hard as I could.

  “No…how dare you!” he spat, catching it before it could slam.

  My bedroom seemed to be closing in around me, his words mangled as my mind tried to process what he was saying.

  “You’re the reason why June won’t take me back! I break up with her for three days and she has you filling her head with bad things about me! Look at you!” Brice laughed, kicking my bedroom door hard. “I just wanted to talk Evelyn!”

  It slammed closed with a bang, snapping free a fresh wave of tears I’d been trying to hold back.

  “Please Brice…leave…” I whispered, backing away as he advanced.

  “She’s too good for me?! She deserves better than me?! My dick is small anyways?!” Brice screamed the same words I’d spoken to June during her three day mourning period. Except the part about his dick being small…June must have added that in for her own satisfaction.

  “I…I never…”

  “That’s right?! How would you ever know?!” Brice snickered, grabbing the arm I had clasped over my chest.

  “Don’t! Please stop!” I cried when he grabbed both my breasts in his hands and squeezed hard.

  “How would you ever know unless you saw for yourself bitch?!” Brice whispered, his nose barely an inch from mine.

  “You’re hurting me!” I sobbed, my hands suddenly pinned when I tried to smack him away from me.

  I was big, but he was strong. He spun me before I could react, his hands gripping my bulging belly as he forced me against the bed, bending me over.

  “Briiiiiice….Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaase….” I cried when I felt his hands suddenly lifting my skirt from behind, cool air on the back of my bare cheeks.

  This didn’t happen to fat girls! He was going to…. Oh God that hurt….

  I was pinned. A rushing river seemed to be inside my head, the roar so loud that I could no longer tell if I was screaming for real or if it was just inside. The sound of a zipper, and then more weight. Full. Deep. Sharp. Tearing.

  My eyes closed as he continued to grunt out obscenities in my ear. My scalp hurt, my pretty hair clasped in his fingers as he pulled hard, keeping me in place.

  Blackness closed in and I gave myself to it willingly. If only I hadn’t thrown the razor under the bed. I could have used it now.

  “You don’t deserve to live,” he whispered just as it took me under, a different kind of warmth seeping down my legs now.

  He was right. I didn’t.

  Chapter 3*

  12 a.m.

  I blinked as a knock sounded on the outer door of our dorm suite. I hadn’t been back in my bedroom since Brice left. The living room floor was as far as I’d made it after smashing everything in sight. There wasn’t much in this room to smash. There were four bedrooms to each dorm suite, three of them housing two girls each. The fourth was a master bedroom reserved for the resident advisor. We all kept out personal items in our rooms, the living room held a T.V., sofa and coffee table. The coffee table had been too heavy to do much damage to, and so I’d flipped it leaving the middle of the floor empty. The TV was light enough that I’d been able to heave it three separate times at the pictures hanging on the wall, shattering the image of three of my roommates as well as the screen. Them with their perfect smiles and perfect bodies, they mocked me. That would show them.

  The knocked sounded again and my eyes finally lifted from the burning pages of the Cosmopolitan magazine spread in front of me. There was no smoking in these dorms, but since our resident advisor had moved out a week earlier, the other girls had taken to leaving their ashtrays and lighters in plain sight. Their skinny girl magazines had been the only thing I could burn without going to jail for arson. Served them right. Someone was probably here about the fire though. Strange that the alarm hadn’t gone off.

  My hands crossed over my still naked chest, and my eyes lowered as a third knock came, the outer door creaking open this time. We never locked it, our bedroom doors all had keyed entries. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this, but I didn’t have the energy to run and hide in my room.

  “What are you doing in here…Witch!?” I hissed as a narrow face peeked around the crack.

  She didn’t deserve that, but it felt good to see the discomfort flicker across her petite features.

  Why should I be the only one in pain?

  Long frizzy black locks seemed to be never ending as the girl took one hesitant step into the living room, her dark eyes on my face. Her hair swallowed her up, her tiny frame almost frail looking with it hanging about her shoulders like that. I’d seen her in passing. Floor five…I was almost sure of it. ‘The Witch’ is what June and her friends had started calling the girl when word got around that a dead rabbit had been found in front of her door. Probably a result of fraternity hazing around here, but she’d been the perfect target. She looked the part, always dressed in black and always muttering to herself. I rarely saw her out and about in the dorm, much less on campus. She was a loner. No friends. Just like me, but misery did not want company right now.

  “I smelled fire…” she whispered, her round dark eyes going from my face to the burning magazine. “Did you need help?”

  Once again her eyes met mine, her thin lips creasing at the corner into a tiny smile. She looked twelve, wrapped in a plush white terry cloth robe, it swallowed her. I shook my head, my mouth opening but no sound coming out at first. A sob was stuck there, and it whined as I swallowed hard, my tongue thick and heavy.

  I’d been sitting here wishing on a star, the moon, genies, birthday cakes, wishing wells… Whatever I could think of that would make what just happened not be true. I’d never had a wish granted in my life. That was the stuff kids believed in. I wasn’t a kid anymore, and Brice Honeycutt had just raped me. Nothing was going to make it better.

  “Unless you’re here to make me skinny, then no…you can’t help,” I answered coldly, dismissing her as I lowered my head once again.

  The fire was closer now. It had spread to the carpet. A few more inches and it would be at the hem of my skirt. Not so horrible a way to die considering what had just happened to me. The door creaked, and I watched the flame grow a little bigger, the heat from it warming my calves as it inched a little closer. Black ash floated up from the burned pages of the magazine and I blinked. Black painted fingernails now fanned the blaze, water dousing it from above.

  “Your wish has been granted,” the girl whispered, setting an empty plastic cup beside me, before turning and leaving.

  I thought she’d left already… Where did she get the water from anyway?

  My head lifted as the outer door creaked closed behind her, my eyes watching the tendrils of smoke as they curled up from the burnt spot in the carpet. Tiny droplets of water dotted a trail leading from the RA’s master bedroom to the pitiful pile of ash in front of me. That door was locked… How had she gotten in?

  Of course there was a bathroom in there. All the resident advisors bedrooms had their own bath. And a tub… I realized, looking down at the blood that stained my thigh and crotch area of my skirt. If ever there were a better way to die. I heaved myself up from the floor, my eyes closed as I walked stiffly back into my bedroom. I didn’t need to look to see that there was a trail of blood –my blood-stained in a dark streak down the side of my comforter. My normally neat bed looked as if I’d had a nightmare, the fitted sheet pulled from the mattress and hanging to the floor. I couldn’t go near it. Luckily I had more of what I needed hidden in the box between the closet and the desk and I grabbed it quickly, locking my bedroom door on the way out.

  My roommates would suspect that our living room had been crashed by other drunk students. No one would think to look for me in the RA’s room. I didn’t bother to knock before I entered, there was no need; it had already been cleaned, checked and locked for next year’s occupant a week ago.

  It was as if the witch had left the door open on purpose…just for me. I already knew what I had to do to ease the overwhelmin
g pain inside me. My heart pounded as my feet carried me towards the dripping sound coming from the bathroom. The door creaked as I pushed it with my foot and I froze under the harsh fluorescent lighting. Razor in hand, I let my eyes wander around the tiny space until it fell on the pristine white tub. It wasn’t very big, but it would do. Anything to get rid of this feeling. Death would be welcomed.

  **********

  Everything burned…my lips, my face, my arms, my body… I was on fire! Reality jolted me awake as I bolted from my bed in a frenzy. Something gripped tight around my wrists and I swung wildly, memories of Brice on top of me fresh and vivid. Standing on top of my bed I almost laughed as my gaze swept my bedroom. How long had it been since I stood on my bed?

  Wait…I was in my bedroom… How did I get here? The last thing I remember was… Oh Shit the tub…my wrist, the blood…so much of it.

  Bits and pieces of the night before floated together, my mind reeling as my eyes landed on the massive wad of gauze wrapped around my hand and arm.

  Someone had found me, not called the police, but instead, wrapped my arm and put me in bed?! What?! It didn’t make sense!

  “Evelyn?! You in there?! We’re leaving now! You still sleeping?!”

  June’s voice reached me from the living room, her knocks deepening the migraine that suddenly appeared just behind my eyes. My mouth opened to call to her as I jumped from the bed onto the floor but something stopped me. Two things should have happened that didn’t, and panic settled. There hadn’t been a loud thump from the floor registering my weight, and I was suddenly off balance, my legs wobbling as if I’d landed on a pair of stilts instead of my cankles.