Disfigured

She's changing so rapidly.
Her skin begins to tighten, to stretch around her muscles and bones until it's so tight
that you can see her skeleton.

You could make out the joins in her fingers,
her vertebrae. You could see the exact way that
human arms are constructed.
She was a greyish color, like flesh without oxygen.
Her eyes were bulging and bloodshot.
She looked both frightened and surprised. If not for the occasion,
you might have laughed.
She stood in front of me, and her skin seemed to constrict more.
Tighter, tighter, tighter.
You could see the white of her bones, it was so thinly stretched.
Her veins were red; her flesh was so spare that there was hardly substance to shield them.
It made her look even more rotten, like the blood inside was spoiled, overused.
Her hair had fallen out except for in tufts.
Where it was still there, it was thin and greasy.
The reddish color looked grey as her skin.
It reminded me of how beautiful she used to be.