The Puss Pocket

The night my tonsils swelled. The day my tongue boiled. The evening my eyes caved in. The last minute I soon began treatment. I went through the next day walking against the crowd, hiding my face from its ugliness, its brutal marks, and its harsh wounds. I never felt more like a monster than last night. Children kept stopping their tracks, and soon believed monsters were real, but not afraid of the day light. I tried to make the collar of m jacket cover whatever evidence of violence I could. Wasn't working since people felt sympathy for the pain they could even feel.
My heels became heavier and heavier as I walked. My paranoia became more intense and slowly evolved in to fear. I couldn't have run in to the sewers fast enough.

My head cocked each way it could. Felt as though my neck was mechanic.

"What happened, miss?!" I heard the gasps, I heard the judgment, and the hope. I waved my hand for him to move out of my way. "Its none of your business, move please." I saw his face mold like clay of expressions. His hope shattered of being a hero. I ran towards the elevator, as it began to close my hoarse throat tried to catch the doors in time "PLEASE, HOLD IT." A hand creeped out and opened it back up. No figure came from the metal doors, I walked in with my head down and no glares needed. I tried to not make eye contact to not cause even more attention. I pushed 8, as it lit up I knew it was coming, the fool dared to make something of it.

"Ma'am are you ok?" I nearly wanted to make him a clone. "I am perfectly fine." "Well you look like someone beat the shit out of you." He was quite the intellgent man, wasn't he? "Yep." I left it at that hoping the doors would hurry and open to resucue me away from what help people were already trying to force on me. "Ma'am seriously.." "This is none of your business, nor is it the next fucking person that see's me."

I ran once the doors pryed open. I was running so fast I lost the grip of the floor under me. Once my head hit the floor I blacked out on the cold cement. I could hear myself trying to wake, and trying to get up. My body layed nearly paralyzed, hoping none drew attention. Even though I'm sure I put myself on a stage.

I then fell back in to last night. The night of him and I. It was the best night of my life. Even with bruises, blood, and the tears. He never layed a hand on me. It was me that actually did this, it was me that caused it. It was him that tryed to fix this. Thats when I took him in my own hands, and made his eyes shut.