So Sacrifice Yourself, and Let Me Have What's Left

Metamorphosis

When the darkness of night comes into play and you fall into a deep sleep, your mind wanders with intentions to show you what your true soul feels, wants, or is concerned about. When you’re no longer in control, your mind feels as if it has been set free, and wants to show you things that even you didn’t know about yourself. You could be shown visions of things you want or desire. Scientists had to get in the way, however, and give a name for these visions. Your heart and soul seep into your brain, taking control in showing you things that would pleasure them, or, as this routine is normally called, dreams. While you’re dreaming, you could be so sucked into the visions that you have no idea what’s going on in the real world while you are being put into this endless trance, being given things that could either excite or fright you. Being sucked into these transitions of the normal world in the ways you want it to be, like having an Adonis-like creature holding you in his arms while he takes you into another world of pleasure that could only be found in your wildest desires, his jade orbs looking into yours the entire time as he brought you into something that you two, and no one else, could completely understand, you may not notice the change happening in another part of your body. You may not feel the carving of black ink into your skin. You may wince at the pain, but refuse to awaken, and think it is only the beginning of what this Adonis is doing to you, and that it will be better. Once the carving is completed, the pain has been lifted from your skin, and now you may now feel the pleasure of what the Adonis wants you to feel, completely unaware of the one thing that would make you a target to the ones who are apart of your what is now a secret, and, by knowing said secret, they want to kill you in every way possible, and will never stop until they see your blood spill from your throat. Either that, or they could want to keep you as their weapon, because now that you are marked, you are invincible, completely immune to any type of pain someone has inflicted upon your body. The ones who know of your secret will desire and loathe you at the same time, and it all depends on their mood that particular day to see what they will do to you. The carving begins once again to add the finishing touches. But you do not awaken to the pain, only wince, wanting to keep this dream of the Adonis fulfilling your every desire possible for as long as you possibly could. The sun begins to rise, and the carving is complete, waiting for you to awaken and discover your new self, your true self.

--

The sound of my phone blaring the music of its regular ring caused my eyes to fly open. I lay in the state of dream and reality that you are given when you first wake up, not so sure of what exactly is going on around you, but soon I exited out of that realm, and entered the real world. My hand sleepily made its way towards my dresser beside my bed that was now put up and completely secure in the corner of my large room. Once my fingertips touched my phone, I took what little grip I had, considering I had just woken up, and pressed the green button, placing my phone to my ear. “Hello?” I mumbled, burying my face into my pillow, hoping to get a bit of sleep for a few extra minutes.

“Hey Candace, this is Gena.” The familiar voice of the sandy blonde girl I had met yesterday on my first day of school and the girlfriend of the god next door cheered as happily as always. “Did I wake you up?” she asked, sounding a bit apologetic.

“No, I was about to get up.” I lied, closing my eyes from the sunlight shining through my window that led out into the balcony.

Gena sighed quickly, apparently relieved that she hadn’t done something to anger me. “Great, well, what time do you think you’ll be ready?” she asked.

My brows furrowed as I repeated her words in my head. “Ready for what?” I asked, trying to wake myself up.

“Matt said he’ll pick you up whenever you’re ready. You did remember our plans for today, right?” Gena asked, sounding a bit surprised. I guessed she figured that I didn’t have much of a life, so she probably thought I would be more than ecstatic to actually get out of the house for the first time ever. Part of that was true, however, except I was more worried than ecstatic.

I nodded against my pillow, even though she couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I remember. I guess I’ll be ready in about thirty minutes.” I said, looking at my clock. It read twelve twenty, and my eyes widened. Never before have I slept in this late. But, then again, I had never had quite the pleasant dreams like I had last night, preventing from ever opening my eyes in fear I would never receive such a dream again.

“Great! Matt!” Gena’s voice grew faint as she told someone that was with her in person to pick me up in thirty minutes. I heard the muffled sounds of a raspy voice, guessing that was this Matt fellow that was coming to my house, unknown of what I looked like, knocking on my front door, and having to deal with Cynthia, the Queen of Harassing People. “Okay, he’ll be there in thirty minutes. Can’t wait to see you!” she said happily. I mumbled something unintelligible, and Gena laughed quietly. “Guess you’re gonna sleep for a few extra minutes, huh? Well, guess I should let you rest, bye-bye!”

I heard the dial tone, signaling Gena had hung up before even letting me say good bye to her as a response. I sighed sleepily, followed by doing a yawn worthy of a lion, placing my phone back on the dresser. Further wrapping myself in my comforter, I snuggled my face against my pillow, hoping to get a bit of sleep before Matt came here.

No such luck came for me in my hopes of sleeping. Not two seconds after I shut my eyes, seeing the red of my eyelids, I felt a sting coming from my right arm. Groaning with frustration, I lifted my arm up, stopping when my wrist was in eyesight. My eyes widened at what I saw. It was almost like a tattoo that I didn’t remember getting, almost as if I was drunk the night before and my friends dared me to do something like this. But that couldn’t be it, for I have no friends to dare me or the money to get a tattoo. I stared at this strange carving on my right wrist, wondering what it could mean, and why it was on my wrist in the first place. I stared at the strange symbol in both awe and wonder. The two small semi-circles came to a flat bottom as another larger semi-circle overcame both of them in both size and height. Three dots, each in the shape of a star, made an outline of a triangular shape and they were placed in the middle of the two small semi-circles, at the point where they met to make one another. I was completely awake now, and could still see this symbol perfectly, and I knew it couldn’t be some type of mirage from the exhaustion of sleep, considering I had gone to sleep at my normal time and had slept a good fifteen hours, not once waking up in the middle of the night. My fingertips that were connected to my left hand gently traced the black lines that formed the symbol. I could feel the slight rise in my skin as my fingertips traced over the line, going outside and onto my red skin, which hurt slightly when I touched it. I knew this had to have happened overnight, while I was asleep, but how could I not awaken from this pain? Then I remembered why I would refuse to wake up at the visions of my most recent dream popping back into my head. My brows were furrowed, causing the wrinkles in my forehead to appear as I stared at the carving in my wrist. There was no telling what had caused this, or why it was there, but perhaps I would find out shortly. In the meantime, I had to get ready, for Matt would be arriving any minute now.

Walking into my bathroom, I didn’t dare look at myself in the mirror, for I began to sense the Perfect Ones starting their chant, just ready for me to see myself and begin my trance once more into pain. I stood under the shower head for a while—completely forgetting that I had taken a shower the night before—not doing anything as I stared at my right wrist. This symbol had to mean something, and I had a feeling that it meant something that could change my life completely. Perhaps this symbol was the answer to why I was the way I was. Perhaps this symbol would explain why I age slowly, or why I excel when it comes to academics, or why I am much more stronger than I look, or why that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t completely interact with others as well as I’m supposed to. Perhaps that maybe, just maybe, this symbol was almost like a key into finding out what I truly am, and just what I’m doing here on earth, and who my real parents were. Feeling the cold water pour on my body, knocking me back into reality, I began what I’m sure is the fastest amount of time anyone has ever taken to use their shampoo and conditioner to their full extent on their hair.
Stepping out from the freezing water that was now finding its way down the drain, taking the various soup suds with them, I pressed a white towel against my chest-length—which was usually shoulder-length—brown hair, soaking up a bit of water, as I reached for my underwear. Once I had those on, ignoring the fact that my bra was a bit tighter around my breasts than usual, I had to finally face what was probably the hardest thing for me to do—look at myself. I was more than prepared for the Chant of the Perfect Ones to beat in my eardrums and into my brain once my dull green eyes locked with the ones in the mirror, which were, surprisingly, sparkling with life. I stopped dead in my tracks, my fingers loosening their grip on the towel, causing it to splash onto the ground, drops of water violently jumping from the fabric and onto the white tile floor.

The Chant of the Perfect Ones did not come as I stared at this person in my mirror, because they had no reason to. This person, whoever she may be, was someone who would never have to suffer from the Perfect Ones whispers, because this girl was the farthest thing from hideous. She was so beautiful, even the god from next door would be put to shame. Her hair was a dark brown color that the layers flowed as her hair stopped in the middle of her chest perfectly at a slight acute angle. Her face was a perfect shape, almost as if carved by angels, and her green eyes sparkled even when the light wasn’t hitting them. Her nose perked up in the air slightly as it was elegantly placed above her full pink lips that pouted from her face in an almost unbelievable way. Her body was in the shape of an hourglass as her arms hugged her noticeable curves. I moved, and the girl moved as well, only not one part of her body jiggled in a sign of more weight that her body would allow. I lifted my right arm, as did the girl, and she had the very same symbol on her wrist as I did. Moving my hand back down, the girl mimicked me, placing her hand over her stomach at the same time I did. I pressed my fingers against my stomach, and the beauty did as well, for I could see her fragile fingertips turn a slight shade of white from the pressure of her fingers pressing against what felt like stone to me. I shook my head repeatedly, and the girl mimed every turn I made, her hair swishing with her at the same time my hair did.

“No, no…this can’t be…” I said, looking back at the Beauty in the Mirror. I lifted my right hand once more, exposing both of our symbols, moving my hand towards the Beauty’s. Our hands touched, and I felt the coolness of the mirror against my warm flesh. My eyes widened, as did the girl’s, as we both realized this remarkable fact. This girl was me, whether I liked it or not. I staggered a bit, wondering how this could be true. Never was I this beautiful, and I didn’t even have makeup on yet. Something had to be very, very wrong here. I stared at my symbol on my wrist, and I knew that this had to be some kind of joke God was playing on me. He was giving me the chance to be beautiful, and then taking it all away once I had everything I wanted.

“Candace! Someone’s here to see you!” Cynthia called from downstairs.

These walls were very thin, so I knew she heard me when I answered her. “He’ll have to wait a few minutes!” I yelled in a more worried than calm tone. I hurriedly dried my hair, and stared in wonder at the sight of it as it hung perfectly straight around my face. I wouldn’t even need a straightener, for I had no fly-away hairs to put down to join with the rest of my hair army. I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling what felt like silk against my tender fingertips. This couldn’t be happening, not to me, anyway. I tried to gain my composure as I searched through the mountain of clothing for something decent to wear. I didn’t have many clothes that actually made me feel good while I was wearing them, considering I never put much of an effort in my clothes like most girls my age did. But if Gena really was dating the god next door, then he would be there, and I had to make a somewhat impression on him in a good way. I picked up a blue shirt that had all types of designs running from the left collarbone to the bottom of the shirt. This was probably the best shirt I had, and it fit me well. I hurriedly put that on, and looked at the Beauty in the Mirror. I shook my head side to side, unbelieving that this goddess could truly be me. I hurriedly picked out a pair of blue jeans, shoved my legs through both of the provided holes, zipped and buttoned everything that needed to be zipped and buttoned, and hurriedly placed my feet in a pair of black shoes—my only pair.

I didn’t want to look at the Beauty in the Mirror that mimicked every action I had done, but I had to, for I had to put on at least a smudge of eyeliner. I picked it up, expecting to hear it ridicule me once more. I placed the brush to my eyelid, and did not hear one peep from my eyeliner, which was definitely a new one. I then began to think that it was probably still asleep, and would get to the rudeness once it had woken up. I finished applying the liner to my eyes, and not once did I hear the slightest insult come from the brush. I stared at it, then back to the Beauty in the Mirror, who had helped me put on my makeup by miming the same things I did. Perhaps my eyeliner had seen this beauty instead of me, and thought that it would be a waste to ridicule someone so gorgeous.

I hurriedly gathered all my things, which was mainly my purse and my jacket, stuffing my arms through both sleeves, careful to hide them so Cynthia and Devin couldn’t see my freshly healed scars on my left wrist and my mysterious tattoo on my right wrist. Leaving the door open behind me, I exited my large room that made up the third story with my footsteps stomping against the stairs as I ran instead of walked down them. I casually walked into the living room, expecting to see some type of mystery man standing there, but all I could see was Cynthia. I immediately wanted to slap myself across the face. By worrying about what the Beauty in the Mirror was doing in my bathroom, and constantly examining my unknown marking on my wrist, I made this Matt guy wait too long, and now he was gone. He would probably tell Gena that I wasn’t there, or that I didn’t want to see him or any of them, making Gena hate me instead of want to be my friend.

Way to go, dipshit. The smug voice of Danielle whispered in my ear.

My eyeliner may have been fooled by the Beauty in the Mirror, but I knew that the Perfect Ones weren’t going to let me go through this day without them at least saying one hurtful thing to me. I felt a slight pulse growing against my scars as the other Perfect Ones came into play.

You fucked up your only chance at having friends. Leana mocked.

And now you’ll be alone, forever. Gena stated cruelly.

“Oh, your friend’s outside.” Cynthia said, walking from the kitchen into the living room, nodding her head towards the front door. “He had to make a phone call.”

The Perfect Ones whispers died away at Cynthia’s sentence, knowing that they no longer had a right to hurt me. I nodded at Cynthia, sending her a silent ‘thanks’. She shrugged, walking back into the kitchen where she loves life the most. I wrapped my arms around my chest, which was a bit harder to do than usual, considering that I had, somehow, grown drastically over night. I was surprised that Cynthia didn’t notice my chance in figure, or, if I was correct, that the Beauty in the Mirror was really me. But, then again, this was Cynthia. She cared more about her birth daughters than she did me, meaning she paid no attention to the likes of me, no matter how much I had changed in one night.

“…Yeah, I’ll get you some.” A raspy voice said, heaving his broad shoulders up and down in a shrug after pausing to let the other voice in his phone speak. “Her mom said she’d be out soon.”

I closed the door quietly behind me, but the mysterious man heard it anyway. His back was to me, but now his body was facing mine. He wasn’t that bad, to tell the truth. His brown hair was shorter than what I usually liked, but it fit him. He had piercing hazel eyes that were staring into my green ones as he noticed my arrival. He was well built, as I could see with his short sleeved shirt exposing his bare, muscled arms. His chest puffed out proudly, almost as if he was the most confident human being to ever exist, and, from what I could see, he had dimples even when he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t staring at me as much as he was waiting for me. “You’re Candace?” he asked.

I nodded, pressing my arms against my chest. I was a bit surprised when I felt something flatten that had never flattened before when I usually did this. I guessed I was just going to have to get used to my mature new body.

The guy smiled, and I was right, he did have dimples. “Still don’t see why Gena didn’t get Zack to take you, his car works just as good as mine.” He said, nodding his head towards the house where I had seen the god next door occupying many times.

I looked in the direction of the house, and then back at the guy, who I guessed had to be Matt. “Zack?” I asked.

Matt nodded. “Yeah, he’s your neighbor. You might’ve seen him. Black hair, lip rings, green eyes?” he asked, turning his body, walking towards a black truck. He turned, gesturing me to follow, and I obeyed.

From what little Matt said, I knew that he was talking about the god. That made me even more sure that he would be there, considering he had said why Gena didn’t get the god to take me instead of Matt. I sat uncomfortably in the truck, staring out the window, my arms still crossed tightly over my chest, causing me to receive lack of oxygen once in a while.

“It’s August, and you’re wearing a jacket?” Matt asked, obviously trying to spark up a conversation, gesturing towards my black jacket that hid my arms.

“I’m cold-blooded.” I lied, pulling down on each of my sleeves until they touched my fingers, making me feel more secure about hiding my scars and mysterious marking.

Matt must’ve seen my action, and gave me a look of disbelief with a slight smirk. “Alright, I’ll believe that for now.” He chuckled, turning his attention back to the road.

I continued to look out the window, watching as the houses and other cars passed by. I wasn’t sure what to expect from today. I knew I shouldn’t have such high hopes, but it didn’t hurt to wonder if the god was really going to be there, and that I was really actually going to have a chance to actually say words to him, instead of staring at him like some belated baboon. While I was looking out the window of Matt’s truck, I vaguely saw my reflection. The Beauty in the Mirror was staring back at me, looking as gorgeous as ever. I began to think of this as a gift if this girl really was me. I had completely transformed over night into something so beautiful that the god next door would just have to love me, and, as cruel as it sounds, leave Gena for me. I bit my lower lip at the thoughts of last night’s dream running through my head. I hoped that one day, perhaps, that dream would become a reality, and I would have the Adonis holding me, loving me, wanting me.
♠ ♠ ♠
lalala [:
the next one has much more zacky in it, just so you know [':
it's the morning, so i'm too sleepy to really say anything more xP
so, in the meantime,
comment + subscribe = <3333