Beauty is Skin Deep (Full Version)

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Angel of Grief -> Beauty is Skin Deep (1/9/2010 17:42:10)

Beauty is Skin Deep


Note: I have been told this story is detailed and...disgusting. Read at your own risk.



***Day 1***


Slowly, the girl started to regain consciousness. The pounding inside her head was giving her one massive migraine, and the heat didn't make her feel much better.


The heat? She thought to herself. Where am I?!

She opened her eyes in shock and wished she hadn't. The scorching light from the midday sun beat down on her neck. Wherever she was, it felt way to dry to be her hotel room. She swallowed, hoping to clear her aching throat. It didn't help. In fact, it made it worse. She retched violently onto the ground, her salty blood making her wince in pain as it touched her chapped lips.

She was aware of another presence near her. Very, very near. A small spider, which looked actually kind of cute, was sitting on her arm. Still, she was deathly afraid of them. She swatted at it, pressing it into her elbow on accident.

Owie! She thought to herself yet again. For such a small spider, its little sting actually hurt a little.

She braced herself against a nearby bush and hoisted herself to a standing position. She was now regretting her life as a model and the shoes that came along with it. Slowly, she walked forward, trying to find a way out of the desert. Almost immediately, her disoriented senses betrayed her. As she tripped over a rock, a sharp snap echoed throughout the area. Her left leg also went numb. She collapsed into a heap yet again in the sand.

Looking back at her ankle, she realized what the sound really was. Her weakened ankle, along with the awkward angle from being bent by the rock, had snapped under the pressure. She stifled a sob, and started crawling away in the afternoon sun, leaving her high heels behind.

Good riddance, she thought with malice.


***Day 2***


The girl hopped up to one leg. Sunset, she thought. Now to get on the move again. But why does my arm itch so much? She looked down at her elbow, where the spider had bitten. It was swollen, and she could barely move it. It was also turning a sickening green color, with pus oozing out of where she had gotten bitten.

For the second time since the start of this ordeal, she retched in the bushes again. But this time, it was a dry one. Nothing left in her stomach to bring back up. Starving herself for the show was a bad idea, and now she regretted it. Her size zero waist, bony shoulders, and unhealthy complexion was proof of how she was killing her own body. As soon as she got home, she would not stop eating for three full hours.

If I get home, she added with a hint of despair.

She itched her arm one last time, almost subconsciously. The tips of her fingers, her fingernails wore down, were covered in something wet. Blood. Looking down, frightened, she almost puked again at what she saw.

Her arm was bloody and raw. The green color had made way for a new color: black. Bits of her own flesh had turned a sickening red as well.

Gangrene! she noted with horror.

She started sobbing now, as she heard fluttering behind her. Turning quickly, she saw a vulture fly off into the fading sunset. A small breeze had started to blow, and the temperature decreased sharply.

Maybe I should get some sleep...

She crawled under the faint shade of a small bush and slept.


***Day 3***


She awakened to a sight nobody would ever want to see. In the morning light, she could see three large black shapes. Three vultures were sitting on the ground next to her, picking at her right arm. She tried to raise her left arm to shoo them away, but was surprised when she could not move it either. Looking over, she realized why. Another vulture, the biggest of the now four total, was perched on her opened palm. Its large talons were gouging into her wrist, but very little blood was escaping. Any blood that was exiting her body was slow and almost black. The great bird opened its mouth and cackled at her. It was laughing at her, mocking her own stupidity for wandering away from that desert party.

She should have not walked away, should have taken that drink from the stranger. But her drunken mind hadn't listened to her. She had taken the drink, and drank it with relish. But something had tasted wrong about the alcohol...it was too....bitter. Yes, bitter would be the way to describe it. She passed out in the sand, and had woken up alone.

Ugh. what a mess i have gotten myself into this time, right girl?

A howl of laughter escaped her chapped lips. The rest of her body had gone numb.

At least I'm pretty.




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