Medeia Sharif - Girl Without a Face

Published by Evernight Teen atSmashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright 2017 Medeia Sharif

ISBN: 978-1-77339-195-3

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Audrey Bobak

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction ordistribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of thisbook may be used or reproduced electronically or in print withoutwritten permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodiedin reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names,characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actualevents, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, isentirely coincidental.

Medeia Sharif

Copyright 2016

Chapter One

I brake hard on the wet road. Its rainingbuckets. My windshield wipers cant compete and theres a sheet ofwater constantly on the glass. Squeak. The wipers dont makea dent in this rain.

Theres a list of things running through mymind. Gift for friends birthday next week, get oil change at theplace that stays open until late, and drop off some library books.Then there are the flowers. I look at the flowers in plastic I justbought theyre lying on the passenger seat. I inhale sharply,thinking about my classmate such a tragic death. Ill put theseat her death site.

Looking at the dashboard clock, I know Ineed to hurry before all these places close, and then, last thing,place the flowers at the death site. Ill go to the library firstsince it closes before everything else. It might be unsafe, but Igo ahead and open my text messages, anyway.

Going to library, see you later

Im a responsible personwhen I want tobeletting my parents know where I am. At a red light, my pursefalls down. I curse, unbuckling my seatbelt to pull it up. Since myair conditioning is broken, the windows fog up and its hard tosee. I roll down the window.

The condensation is relentless, so I pull abeach towel from the backseat and wipe the windshield. Now that Isee better, I speed up. The red eyes of brake lights glare at me.Other drivers honk if I go around them, middle fingers are raised,and curse words drift out of open windows. I have things to do andeveryone better get out of my way. Anger simmers in me, but Isquash it down. This is the new me. The old me was angry all thetime, which got me nowhere. It also hurt others. I regret doing therotten things Ive done.

When I turn on a quiet road, I speed up. Theroad is full of houses flashing Christmas decorations: an inflatedSanta, a floppy Santa on an artificial chimney, and plenty oflights around doorways, fences, and palm trees.

It continues to pour, but no one is blockingmy way with their annoying brake lights. The sky has become darker,as if Mother Nature flipped a switch. I hit the pedal some more.Im a few blocks from Atlantic and a library thats right beforeit, and I see cars are clogging the entire intersection. Igroan.

A closed gas station with the store guttedand construction vehicles in front of it come into sight. Sincethis is a shortcut, none of this is very familiar, although I havea sensation that Ive driven around here before. Or it could be theeffect of the rain. Every wet road looks the same just aboutnow.

The rain finally lets up, going from heavy,to a drizzle, to none at all, and I sigh. On my right, opposite ofthe gas station, is an empty lot with a real estate sign. The grassis wild and overgrown. Theres also one of those lollipop-shapedmemorial markers next to a tree stump. Its on the swale of the lotwith a garland of pink flowers around it.

A streetlight shines on it as if it were aspotlight. I slow down, lean forward, and strain my eyes to readthe name on the marker. Someone died in a car crash on this spotand Im curious to see if its for the person I bought the flowersforeven though this is the last place on my list to visit, withthe address written on a sticky note thats inside my wallet. Thiscould be the spot. If it is, I can park here, place the flowers bythe marker to pay my respects, and leave.

The lettering is small. The pink flowers arebright and beautiful against a bland landscape. Their frilly petalsare feminine when everything around itgas station, constructionsigns, pipes, and cinder blocksis hard and ugly. My gaze rovesaround the flowers and letters. I slow down some more.

I read the name aloud. D I beginpronouncing the name and am cut short at the first syllable. Myfoot, which was off the accelerator, twitches back onto it andwithout meaning to, Im speeding forward. My car skids and spins. Iclutch the steering wheel. The tires screech and a scream is caughtin my throat. Then I let it loose.

Ahhhhh! My scream is primal, forced frommy lungs no, even deeper from my abdomen The sound wrenchesout of my mouth and into oblivion as the world becomes black.

Chapter Two

I hover on the ceiling, looking down, as ifIm a camera or a spirit watching. The school hallways are murky.They might shift any second to transform into another setting. Atrio of girls is right below me. Words spew out of theirmouths.

Dont tell anyone, but Tinas boyfriend,Brad, is cheating on her, one girl says. She has long, straightblack hair and her face is clouded over. My dream is hiding it,with all her features blurred. Tinas such a retard that shedoesnt realize it.

No way, Danielle says, her blue eyeswidening.

Tell us more, Krissy says. She swishesher blonde hair to the side and crosses her arms underneath herchest.

In my dream, I know the names of the othergirls, but not this blurred one. Theyre wearing cheerleadinguniforms and all have the same kind of body: small waists andthighs that dont touch. When the bigger girls look their way, theysneer, but not the faceless girl since shes still blurred out, yetI imagine her sneering.

The faceless girl tells her eager listenersabout how Brad was kissing and making other moves on some girl, andthen Tina enters the hallway. They all hush.

Krissy hides a smile behind her hand andDanielle openly grins. When Tinas long, brown hair sways to theside and her mouth opens into a dazzling smile, boys look her way,but she gushes about Brad. She has no idea what a dog he is. Bradbought me a single rose last night and it was so sweet you shouldhave seen the fancy restaurant he took me to Tinas eyes roll upto the ceiling as she praises her amazing boyfriend.

And I have a feeling that the blurred girlis smiling, because she was the one who slept with Brad.

****

Its hazy, my eyes want to glue themselvesshut, and Im so high that I dont know whats real and whats not.Strange dreams take place in high school hallways. Drama andbitterness between girls. Its like a movie I want to pull awayfrom, but Im forced to watch it. Thats one nice thing about beingin the hospitaltheres no drama. School is a horrible place withbackstabbers, gossipers, and bullies. Id be happy never to step ina school hallway again not that I remember ever doing so. My mindhas been wiped clean from the accident.

With the help of a nurse, I walk around thefloor. My hip screams and my knee aches, but I want to walk.Visions of wasting away in the hospital bed scare me. What if Iatrophy to nonexistence or sleep my way into death? I need to movearound to feel alive, even if its painful.

Next door to me is an elderly woman with herleg in a cast, suspended in the air, and bandaged ribs. She tellsme to call her Sydney, but I call her Ms. Mills. She was in a caraccident.