Chameleon

Tonight is the night. I am done. I quit. I am not doing it anymore.

As I look at myself in the mirror, I see a beautiful woman. Long blonde hair with just a slight wave, draped over my bare shoulders. Bright blue eyes, long lashes and brows arched just right. My cheekbones are not too high, and the blush accentuates them beautifully. A slender nose and full plush lips that any man would love to kiss, painted a deep blood red. I have a slight jawline and the perfect chin. My teeth are porcelain white, perfectly straight and even.

My body is also perfect. My skin is a beautiful olive, with the hint of a tan, lineless. My breasts sit high and firm. I am a size thirty six, D.

My slender waist tapers to twenty eight inches, widening to perfectly shaped hips and plush butt of thirty six inches. My legs are long and slender, smooth and touchable, leading down to the prettiest feet and toes, all perfectly shaped, that easily slip into a size seven shoe.

I am perfect from head to toe, so some people say.

But it’s a lie, all of it. I am not beautiful. I am a hideous monster underneath. This is all just a delusion, a false beauty constructed just for the spotlight. But it all ends tonight, the final curtain call for me. And him.

Ten years earlier

People look at me strangely when I ride my bike down the street to the market for my mother. Stares and snickers that I have become accustomed to in my ten years of life.

I am wearing dark shades and a scarf covering my head, cut-off jeans, a tank top and dirty sneakers. The temperature today is expected to reach one hundred degrees, and it’s only the middle of April.

It doesn’t matter how slow or fast I ride, the angry, nasty remarks come and can be heard by all. I can’t say that they don’t hurt because they do, they cut through my heart like a razor. But it is what it is.

“Good morning Ariel. Here for your mother I see. Does that woman ever leave the house? Is she a shut-in?” The grocer’s wife snips.

“Yes mam.” I keep my head down and hand her the list my mother gave me.

I don’t like the grocer’s wife, she is always so mean to me and she talks about my mother in the nastiest way. I like the grocer, he is a kind and gentle man. He never says nasty things about me or my mother. And when his wife is not around, he always sneaks me some candy.

“Well. What have we here? Flour, milk, sugar. What is she trying to do, make a cake?” she laughs, shaking her head. Her laugh makes my teeth hurt from grinding them.

She gets a basket and walks around gathering what’s on the list. She calls each item out, then laughs clicking her tongue. I would like to pull that tongue out.

“You know, I wouldn’t have to do this if she came in and did it herself. She shouldn’t be sending someone like you to do her job,” She snips and starts adding up the purchase.

I pay and quickly grab the bags. I walk out to my bike, trying to fit everything into the basket on the back.

“Look, it’s the freak! What’s wrong, freak? Is the sun too hot on your delicate skin? Does it hurt your crazy eyes?” the crowd of boys laugh.

“Nah, she’s just so ugly she don’t want to scare the sun!” another boy jeers.

The worst of the four boys is the red head. He is a couple of years older than me.

Bags packed, I take off. I feel something hit me in the back. It hurts, but I won’t stop to cry about it. I stopped crying a long time ago. I ride as fast as I can with my heavy load.

When I reach the edge of town, I turn off on the dirt road that leads to my house. I slow down and coast for a bit, resting my burning legs. I smile when I pass the old mule eating grass by the fence. A flock of Turkeys cross the road and I stop a ways back so I don’t frighten them. The Mallard ducks are on the little pond, the males showing off their beautiful plumage.

I come to a stop on the side of the road and pick some wild plums, popping them in my mouth and making a face at their sourness. I shove some in one of the bags for my mother and get back on the road.

The barking alerts me that Chance, the border collie is coming to greet me. I stop and pet him for a few minutes, but then I have to go.

I have to dodge the ducks, chickens and cats as I come into the yard, coming to a stop right in front of the door.

I gather the bags and carry them in the house.

“Mother, I’m home!”

“Oh thank you dear. Did everything go okay?” she calls out to me.

“Yes mam,” I take the plums to her.

“Oh thank you dear. Maybe you can gather enough this year to make jam and a pie!” she pops one in her mouth.

“Mmmm, good and sour,” she laughs.

“Or just to eat!” I laugh and climb up on the bed with her.

She hugs me close and kisses my head. She removes the shades and scarf, smiling at me.

“You are my beautiful angel. I love you.”

“I love you mother.”

“Now, you need to put everything away and come back to help me wash.”

“Yes mother,” I kissed her again and ran to do as told.

The first thing I do is put the water on to heat. By the time I get everything put away, the water is hot. I carefully pour it into a bucket and carry it to my mother.

“Thank you love,” Mother grunts as she pulls herself up by the bar hanging from the ceiling.

I helped her remove her thin cotton gown, wrap a towel around her shoulders and get a cup of water, pouring it over her head. Her hair is very short now so it is easy to wash. The water that runs down her body is used to wash her up. Clean and dry, I slip a clean cotton gown over her head. By now she is having trouble breathing, so I move quickly.

I help her rock her body up and she shifts from the bed to a wide home made stool. Moving as fast as I can, I strip the bed and place clean sheets down. With a mighty grunt, we shift her back to the bed. She leans on a pile of pillows gasping for breath. That sound scares me.

“Thank you my angel. Can you bring me some water? The doctor should be here soon,” She wheezes.

I run to the kitchen and draw her some water and rush back. I hear a car coming up the road. My mother looks at me and nods. I run to the wardrobe and climb in, leaving the door just cracked. I hear the front door open.

“Mrs Abrahms, I’m here.”

“Come in doctor,” My mother calls back.

I peek through the crack to see Dr Knots come in.

“Hello Mrs Abrahms. How are you today?” He sits next to her.

Dr Knots is a tall black man with white hair and a mustache. He seems like a nice man, but I still hide when he comes.

“About the same Doctor,” she replies.

He listens to her chest, front and back.

“Mrs Abrahms, I really must insist you go to the hospital. Your lungs can’t handle much more. You need to be on support.”

“I can’t do that.” she replies.

“Where is your daughter?”

“She is around.”

“Ariel, come out!” he calls out.

“Ariel, I know you are close, come out child!”

“You leave her be!” Mother cries.

“I need to know that she’s okay. I know you can’t care of her anymore. Where is she?” he raises his voice.

“You leave her be!” Mother starts gasping for air, holding her chest.

“Where is she?” he says louder.

“You can’t take her from me! She’s mine! You can..Aaahhh, I,I Can’t breathe! Aaahhh!”

“Mother!” I shoot out of the wardrobe and jump on the bed.

“Mother, mother?”

“She’s gone child. You come with me.”

“NO! NO! Mother, mother!”

The doctor scoops me up and pulls me away from my mother. I keep my eyes focused on her as he carries me away, until I can’t see her anymore.

The doctor takes me to a place I don’t know, to a man I don’t know. He has to carry me in, because I refuse to walk. I am just numb.