Pushing the door open, she descended the stairs and came to a stop at the foot of the stairs, ebony eyes taking in the scattered state of her room. Pulling down her mask, she inhaled deeply and after a few moments let out the breath she was holding, satisfied that nobody had been in her room. Throwing her bag at a random direction, she began to shed her uniform, her clothes falling off to reveal a patchwork of scars and raw flesh that pulsated softly, the discolored flesh seemingly connected to healthy flesh by a network of pitch-black veins that stood out even more thanks to her dark skin.

Standing in front of a full-length mirror in a sports bra and a pair of boxers, she examined her reflection. Her hair was done up in cornrows just like her dad’s had been when he was her age, the hairstyle complementing her tomboyish features. Her body was toned, developed by years of working on her dad’s family farm and countless fights between her cousins, aunts, uncles and on more than one occasion, her dad. Gripping the mask that hid half of her face from view, she pulled it off her face, the mask disengaging with a hiss of pressurized gas. The lower half of her face was dominated by raw pulsating flesh and pitch-black veins that writhed and shifted each time she looked at them. A medical mishap her dad had told her. A lie. One of the few he had ever told her. 

Touching one of the patches of pulsating flesh that adorned her torso, she pulled back her finger quickly as she felt it wriggle under her touch. Almost like it had a mind of its own. Fishing her phone from her discarded bag, she opened the camera and zoomed in on one of the patches and began to record its movements. Once she had sufficient footage, she saved it and after a few moments of scrolling through her contacts list, she dialed her dad’s number, mind racing as she rehearsed how she would get him to tell her exactly what was wrong with her. Her father picked up after the third ring. 

“Dad,” she began, her defiant personality deserting her as she addressed him. “Sorry for calling out of the blue, but we need to talk,” she hated how timid she sounded, how weak she must appear to an incarnation of strength.

“About?” her dad’s voice was cold and even, indicating that he was busy and that she get straight to the point. 

“It’s about my condition,” she took a deep breath, steeling her nerves before continuing, “I know that it’s not a medical condition and whatever it is,” she paused and looked herself over in the mirror once more, her fingers trailing over a patch of discolored flesh that shifted under her light touches, “It’s getting worse,” she closed her eyes, hating how her voice carried traces of panic in it. She should be stronger, or at least be more capable of hiding her worries beneath a calm façade like her dad taught her. 

The line was silent few minutes as her father pondered her words. Just as she was about to speak, her father’s voice came through the line. “I’ll see you this evening,” he said with finality, his words leaving no room for argument and even if they did, she was never one to argue with him. 

“Yes sir,” she responded, and with her confirmation, he cut the call. Tossing the phone on the bed, she rummaged through her drawers and pulled out a pair of baggy trousers and a long-sleeved red shirt. Looking at herself in the mirror, she nodded in satisfaction before taking a seat at the workbench which was littered with outdated disassembled masks, salvaged parts and scattered papers covered with her handwriting, each one detailing years of research on her condition. Her laptop sat in the corner, its black lifeless screen reflecting her image across the surface. Picking up a screwdriver, she began to disassemble her mask, her movements swift and fluid from years of repeated action. Pulling open the front to reveal a series of delivery vents and circuitry, she gave them a cursory glance and satisfied that everything was as it should be, she reassembled it and slid it over her face, the mask securing itself around her face with a satisfying click. 

Getting off her chair, she picked up her phone from where she discarded it and after making sure her earbuds were fully charged, headed up the stairs, pausing to take one last cursory glance over the stack of papers that contained years worth of research which had culminated in this moment. Taking her bike keys from the nail on the wall as her stomach growling in hunger. Locking the door behind her, she tried to make her way to the front door, only to run into Susan and Alex who were just coming into the house, 

“Where are you going?” Susan asked as she took off her jacket and hung it on the rack while Alex took off her bag and hung it on the same rack, her eyes looking anywhere but her sister. 

“Going to see dad,” Mia replied while trying to navigate past her mom and sister, her irritation growing the longer she breathed in the scent of her mom’s recent fling.  

“I see,” Susan muttered softly before taking a deep breath. “Make sure you’re back early. I’ve booked an appointment at the saloon for us tomorrow and I don’t want us to be late,”

“Saloon? What for?”

“There’s a small gathering on Sunday and I’d like both you and your sister to attend,” the tone of her voice and the way she emphasized “both” made it clear that she wasn’t simply requesting Mia’s presence, she was demanding it.

“It depends on my schedule,” Mia retorted, her lips curling in a cruel smile as she knew her mom would rise to the bait. 

“It depends on nothing Maria,” Susan’s anger felt like a balm on Mia’s soul, especially now that she was using her full name. “You WILL come to the gathering. You WILL wear the dress I pick out for you and you WILL behave. I am your mother and you WILL do as I say!” she raged, finally fed up with Mia’s disrespect. 

“You were my mother,” Mia countered while grabbing her mask and pulling it off to reveal the scarred and discolored flesh, the patches of pulsating meat and web of black veins that disfigured her. “Until you let this happen,” she bared her teeth at Susan, her eyes flickering with delight as she watched her mother shift with discomfort, her anger giving way to shame. 

"Mia that's not fair to her," Alex finally interrupted, her mother’s discomfort giving her the strength to stand up to her sister. “She made one mistake. One mistake that you’ve lorded over her head for eight years despite her trying so hard to fix it!” as soon as the words left her mouth, Alex flinched as Mia glared at her. 

"You'd know all about fixing mistakes, wouldn't you?" Mia hissed as she ignored her mom and focused a predatory gaze on Alex who had a fearful expression on her face, her anger deserting her in the face of Mia.

"I wonder which one your favorite to erase?” she asked, placing her jaw in her hand as she thought, her smile growing as she recollected her sister’s sins. “Was it the one that put you in rehab?” she asked mockingly, “Or the one where you ran over that poor dog? One minute it was barking and the next its being crushed by a ton of metal.”  

“So many mistakes, all swept under the rug by dear Susan. But my favorite has to be the one that led you upstate to a quaint orphanage,” she gave a knowing smile, watching as Alex’s eyes widened in shock before she burst into tears and ran to her room, her pained cries resounding through the house. 

"Mia that was too far!" Susan yelled; her anger palpable. “Go and apologize to her and then go to your room this instant!" she ordered; her voice filled with as much authority as she could muster, her anger rising at her daughter’s nonchalant attitude 

"Oh no, Mayor Susan is angry," Mia retorted in mock horror, her grin growing wider, the discolored patches of flesh and spiderweb of black veins making her look like something out of a nightmare. "Whatever will I do," she placed the back of her hand on her forehead, pretending to look distressed before bursting into laughter as she brushed past Susan and opened the door, sliding her mask on with the tell tale click indicating that it was firmly secured to her face. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Susan fumed as she watched her daughter slide on a pair of sneakers, "Go and apologize to your sister and then go to your room!" she raised her voice, watching as Mia adjusted her shoes, "Don't you dare walk out that door! I am your mother and you will listen to me damn it!" she screamed, her frustration reaching its peak as she watched Mia flip her the middle finger.

"I obviously won't be attending the party so don't wait up," she informed Susan, dismissing her outburst as she closed the door behind her, only to open the door a few seconds later; "Also, tell your new fling to quit smoking," she advised before closing the door behind her, leaving a fuming Susan alone with Alex’s choking sobs