The Drifter

Created by thenuggetchronicles on Friday, August 23, 2013


What happens if a story is rejected? It’s thrown away. Call me Story, because I’ve been rejected all my life. An outcast in society. I am abnormal but it’s not the unique version of normal. I, Story Noname, have no face. I can see you but I don’t have eyes. I can speak but I don’t have a mouth. I can breath and hear but my mouth and ears are nonexistent. I live in an abandoned building, bottling all of my anger, and plotting my revenge. I was used for a cruel experiment because my parents didn’t want me. I was abandoned.

I pressed my back against the cold brick wall and stared at my baby photos. Each was different. One showed my face; everything in it’s place. The next shows the beginning of the reversal process. What if humans could still function with all facial features hidden under a layer of skin? No. They can’t. I was just lucky. I ran my hands over my flat face; imaging what I would look like.

"Be pretty. Be normal. Be pretty. Be normal.” I said to myself. "Be pretty! Be normal!”

I picked up a piece of broken glass and looked in it. I’m still ugly. Why can’t you be pretty, Story!

Out of anger I ripped up all of the photos. The pieces fell in a circle in front of me. I felt relief for just a moment. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Hopefully, this will calm me.

"Story!” a voice shouted.

I recognize that voice. It’s the voice of one of the doctors who experimented on me. He comes every now and then to check up on my progress. It benefits him more than it benefits me. Eventually he finds the room I’m in. I watched him cross the room and sit right in front of me. He is carrying a silver briefcase.

"We are going to preform another experiment on you. I just came here to measure you.”

He opened up his briefcase and started to take out his utensils. I kicked the scapula closer to me.

"Alright here we go.” He said without looking at me.

I knocked him over and began to stab him with the scapula and shard of glass. First, I destroyed his eyes and face. Then I stabbed his chest repeatedly.

"I want a face! You did this to me!” I said as I carved a face against my skin. I made eyes, a mouth,a nose and ears. Blood poured out of my face. My sight is fleeting. Everything is suddenly slowing down. I shifted my body to look into the briefcase. There was a mirror and a box. I saw my bloody face. Then I opened the box. Inside of the box was a face. A beautiful face. I slouched over. Becoming weaker by the second. I could’ve had a face. I could’ve been normal. I could’ve finally lived as a drifter in society.

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