Mask of A Legend (3 page)

But then she grabbed onto Legend and gave her a tight hug. It was like she knew what Legend was feeling, going through, like she could see through Legend’s teary gaze, invoking her own gaze to seal in tears that crept through her shaky eyelids, passing through her black mascara and staining Legend’s right shoulder. The sentiment of confusion, unknowing and agony that filled Legend every moment she gawked at her own reflection, her mother understood. “I just wish I could be beautiful, so the whole world could see my beauty,” said Legend, crying on her mother’s left shoulder. “Mom, I just want that so bad.” The lightning struck harder, echoing through the tall buildings that surrounded their house, beckoning Legend to notice their sounds of greatness; but instead she cried more, tears that begged to fall on her mother’s shoulder.

Her mother pulled away from her and peeped at Legend’s tear-filled blue eyes in sincerity, seeing the tears fall faster instead of lessening their flow. “It’s okay, baby, your acne will go away, it did for me when I was younger.”

“Yeah, but you were only ten years old when your acne vanished. I’m seventeen, and this acne’s getting worse! My hair, cheeks, everything about me is ugly!” Her mother hugged her tighter, embracing her in a rapture of love, trying to lessen the tears she felt fall over her shoulder again. “They make fun of me at school, Mom, they call me crater face, ugly, and astronomy geek. Just because I like looking at the stars, they call me constellation face. Even the guys make fun of my looks when the school holds those stupid dances. A lot of times they swear at me, Mom. They swear at me. I just wish it would all go away!” Her mother pulled away from her hug and looked Legend straight in the face.

“I promise you, baby, your wish will come true…one day. You’re only seventeen years old; you still have plenty of time to develop beauty. You already developed it within…. You have a very old soul, Legend, that’s filled with great wisdom; soon it will show on the outside. Those girls at school are just jealous of you. They all developed already, and are afraid that when your time comes around, you’ll outdo them all; and you will. Besides, if only you can see that you already did, without growing into that great woman you were destined to become. You’ll see, what comes around goes around.” Still, Legend smelled the liquor aroma on her breath, but trusted that the words her mother spoke were real; she prayed they were.

“I know, Mom, I just wish it would come around already!”

“It will, and that’s a promise!”

She felt Legend’s tear-drenched face and just stared at her with a lonely smile, praying that the words she spoke went straight to Legend’s soul and helped it glisten, showering it in truth that would aid its beacon to shine greater. Legend tilted her face away from her mother and stared at her reflection in the window again. She grinned toward her reflection, but the grin vanished when her mind became overwhelmed by her image. It blew out the beacon of her soul that strived so much to excel. Legend turned around to face her mother and hugged her tight. “Thank you, Mom….” She yearned for her mother to believe that the words she slurred to Legend helped her a bit. After all, this was the first time she ever acted like a nurturing mother with liquor still on her breath, and secretively Legend wanted to let her know that she did well, even though it didn’t fix her soul in the least.

“One day every guy on this side of town will be pounding at your door, just to get a glimpse of your beauty,” said her mother. Legend gave out a small laugh.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, Mom. Besides, I don’t think a guy would like to date an astrology, zit face kind of girl, like myself,” Legend laughed.

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up on that, you never know…. Now, get your butt moving, I don’t want you to be late for school.” Her mother returned a sobered smile and wiped her mascara-stained tears away with her hands.

“Alright.”

Legend put on her blue school skirt, and a white shirt, striving to avoid looking at herself in the mirror of her bedroom. She always did this, the ritual of staying away from anything with a reflection, especially a mirror − her worst enemy − struggling to brush her hair and feel its shape, making sure that, through her imagination, it was just the way she wanted it to be. Not perceiving her face for a long time, Legend got used to the routine of balancing her clothes and hair −feeling them out− without gazing at their entirety that a reflection blesses the eyes to grasp. But Legend knew the evil behind that blessing, the sinister that eyes can bring, wrapped up with the idea that, even though a reflection is precious to the eyes, it can and most likely will be the greatest curse of all; the reality of what the eyes don’t want you to see; beauty that hides under torturous memories of hatred toward its unconscious features; the wicked melodies that one hears when their eyes meet in a mirror. To Legend, her eyes forever saw ugliness when looking at her image before she discontinued the normal ritual; she didn’t want her eyes to continue the abuse to her soul, so nevertheless, she adapted to a life without her reflection. Of course she still was and is reminded of her looks now and then when her face pops out at her on purpose through the reflection on a window, or a puddle of water, as if it premeditates these meetings for her to know it’s still there, belonging to her like a curse she can’t shake off, like a dying love craving for one more glance of a heart that denies its life.

She grabbed her backpack, three astronomy books and ran out of her small house with the aroma of liquor still apparent in the tobacco-smoky air, stifling at her breath, choking her without mercy. It was an aroma that gets engraved in a mind, chiseled, where, if she smelled it again in another place, it would cause her to flashback to her house and remember her drunken, depressed mother and a glass house with broken windows.

Legend ran three blocks down through the rain where her Catholic school stood, pausing for a moment, pointing her eyes at the school, watching it from a distance. Fear. Nerves. She watched in great dread, smelled the fragrance of mental torture blowing in the wind, perceiving how her long day of being picked on will inevitably be. The fright of entering the school, hearing those evil names again, ran through her guiltless mind so much that Legend heard the echoes in her thoughts of those transgression-like names.

Zit head, ugly….

She thought of them over and over, similar to a shadow of a monster whispering them to her soul’s eyes, panicked and nervous; she closed her eyes and allowed the voices to go away as she always did. Standing alone in the windy, bitter-like school ground, Legend often wished for an escape, a way out for her to avoid the future’s doubtful message. So, she would close her eyes, and imagine her legs lifting off from the cold ground, growing wings from her back and soaring through the clouds. She would race toward the sun, toward the dawn, toward the stars, beyond the satellites, the planets, and circle about a world where beauty has no name, and there she would frolic about and breathe in the refreshing air of prosperity. Freedom.

Nevertheless, she would then open her eyes always and see that her feet never left the ground they were cursed to feel, and forget about that world she so needed to see again. After her mind lost the light and blackness took over, Legend proceeded to her school as she said in a low prayer, “Please, God, don’t let them make fun of me today.” Wounds and scars stabbed into her essence, opened stitches and unbandaged wounds bathed over her spirit from past memories of bullies making fun of a face that she was forced to dislike herself. It wasn’t always like that. No. Once upon a time, there was a girl who loved her life, enjoyed breathing in and out and looking at the mirror. But then others started their name-callings, and that little girl grew to learn that her face was judged as being ‘ugly’.

Nonetheless, Legend was terrified once again. But, holding strength to her flesh – trying to − she stepped her feet on the front lawn of the school and went beyond the grass that seemed as sharp as thorns, leading to a place that her mind reminded her about, haunted stories that it whispered to her through her glossy sight and sweaty pores. She took another step closer to purgatory, hoping for a fire to start in the school, breathing in the scent of the fire drill going off in the air to prevent her from going to that place of evil echoes yet again. She then took a third step, her flesh dripping sweat down to the blades of grass, perspiring her nerves like melting ice on a fire, when suddenly a familiar figure ran up to her and gave her a nudge.

“Where have you been all week?” Jenny asked. She held Legend’s sweaty hand and they walked over the grass more. They reached the school’s staircase and continued up it, waiting at the top, patiently awaiting the sound of the bell and praying that it would go off before the sounds of name-callings were heard, like stones flying through the air toward them. Legend looked at Jenny’s obese body and chunky face, stopping abruptly; she started to erect uncertainty in her scorched eyes.

“Why are we stopping? Didn’t school start yet?” Legend inquired. Legend was terrified by the sudden silence and halt. Legend knew this formula was perfect for harassment, foreseeing the mean girls and their disturbing shadows behind them, knowing they would walk up to her and call her those menacing yet childish names. She felt secure to be in the school, or to be in motion, that way the girls can’t make fun of her while the teachers are present, or with her back turned to them while walking quickly away.

“No, the bell hasn’t rung yet,” replied Jenny. They stood under the awning of the school and watched the students accumulate on the front lawn, like insects over a large, green giant, resting on top of its green belly, waiting for that perfect moment when they see their prey; Legend was it and she alleged their bites would be enjoyed.

“You know what, why don’t we just wait inside?” Legend asked, tripping over each word that exited her dried mouth.

“Don’t be silly.” Then Legend distinguished the girl bullies, through the many faces in front of the school, walking up the stairway, marching side-by-side from behind the leaders of their group. They gave a dead glare, as if hunting for their next victim in a war that was never supposed to be. Legend developed a blanket of terror, melting all her courage and self-esteem, making her eyes sweat and skin weep. She watched as the evil girls walked up the stairway, presenting a malice smile toward Legend’s eyes that were beginning to tear up by the fiery sight they saw. She recognized, by past days, that desire to be forgotten, replaced by pleasant thoughts, yet can’t, that the girls would either embark on calling her names, or else just talk behind her back.

Either way, they had their own strategies for torturing her eyes and ears, and Legend of course would be forced to witness it, like a wounded lamb in a field, devoured by foxes that didn’t even know its name. She felt helpless, engulfed in a prison of vulnerability that she couldn’t escape. Past days that went by, Legend tried to talk to teachers and counselors about her problem, trusting that, by their wisdom-filled personas, they would fight away her dragons that breathe in fire and exhale ice that froze Legend’s soul. But nothing occurred, only making matters worse by some faculty talking to the girls and hearing them denying ever bothering Legend before. And by that, it made matters even more ghastly than before, triggering Legend as a snitch, somehow seeing in their ignorant minds that Legend posed a threat and making her life a living hell with Satan to lead would be the only means to their evil surviving. Legend would rather have them talking behind her back, instead of actually facing the words that they spoke about her. Either way, she would still be crucified.

The girls were getting closer. Their eyes came into contact with Legend’s and they stopped climbing the rusted stairs, turned their bodies and headed toward Legend, still standing side-by-side like soldiers going into battle. The closer they got, the more it was hard for Legend to breathe, to feel, to comprehend her surroundings, freezing up by the invisible beast that possessed these girls to treat Legend like a used rug. It was as if she tried to leave her body, not longing to hear what these bullies had to say to her, fully aware, by history, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. And then they reached her, stopped in their tracks, and all Legend could do was concentrate on her breathing so she wouldn’t pass out, remembering to breathe in and out, and not to listen. It was as if her fear toward these girls strangled her throat, made her skin cry, and her head spin with fright. She could smell their perfumes, all wearing the same aroma, creating a stronger, potent scent that cringed at Legend’s stomach. And then it began.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t miss ugly and her friend ‘fatty’,” one girl said; the other girls laughed
while Legend still paid attention to her breathing.
Being used to the harassment, Legend timed her encounters with these beasts of beauty, and knew by memory it would be over in about twenty seconds.

“Yeah, miss constellation face and her fat ass friend are waiting for the bell to ring,” another girl pointed out; the other girls laughed harder and Legend fought to block out their words and keep in her tears. The perfume-sickened aroma somehow grew stronger the more the depraved girls, bitches of the dark side, harassed Legend’s dying spirit. Twenty seconds already passed by, and it was heading up to thirty.

Jenny, overflowing with bravery, walked up to the girl, who called them names first − the chief − and said, “Dina, why don’t you just shut your bitchy ass up?” Legend suddenly turned away from Dina and placed her eyes on Jenny. Thank goodness Jenny said something.

Dina, a pure-bred brat, raised on the northernmost point of north with a silver spoon so far up her Prada satchel was beautiful on the outside nevertheless, but grotesque on the inside, that of pond water stench banking in the summer’s heat. She was also feared by Legend.