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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Dribbles - 20. Hideous

Response to GA prompt 142 Starting Line: “Because . . . how could you not know this was done to me?”

“Because . . . how could you not know this was done to me?” I waved a hand at my face, though I couldn’t really see it; just the vague blur and colors. I felt the air currents puff against my burning cheeks as I gestured wildly. “You can’t tell me you didn’t see them force this on me!” Tears burned in my eyes.

“I’m hideous.”

There was a snort and a hand touched mine; I flinched back.

“Stop, I’m trying to help.” I felt Elias peeling off the hanging nails of the hand he’d grasped. I shuddered as one stuck and he had to pull extra hard. I was just glad it didn’t hurt too much.

I stood there shaking as he pulled the blue and purple nails off my other hand. Once he was done with that, he led me over to the sinks. I heard the water running.

“We’ll let that get nice and hot,” hands brushed my hair back, the black strands loose around my face were tucked behind my ears, “and get you fixed up. Don’t worry; it’s not too bad.”

I shook my head. “It is, Elias. You have no idea how bad it is. I heard them,” I swallowed hard, “take pictures of me.”

There was a snort and I felt my body go rigid. I couldn’t believe he had let them do this to me.

“The water is hot.”

I turned and stuck my face under the soothing flow of water, hoping it would be enough to erase it all. I knew it wouldn’t though.

Elias handed me a handful of thin paper towels when I stood up, red and black drops dripping from my face onto my baseball jersey.

“I told you not to fall asleep at the lock in,” he said. “Those cheerleaders are vicious with their makeovers.”

He grinned. “Just be thankful the pages are all made so they can’t put it in the annual.”

I struggled to see clearly through the burn of the black goop girls put on their eyelashes so I could glare at him. “Yeah right. Thanks asshole.”

Hee hee, did I have you going there?
Copyright © 2017 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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