Rip.
Rip.
The paper comes apart in his hands, leaving gray marks on his fingers as he tears it into long, even strips. There is a large stack of papers to his right. One of the men in blue clothes collects them from the visiting room and gives them to him every morning.
Rip.
Michael isn't sure, and doesn't really care, but he thinks that man also buys him glue and paint.
Michael doesn't think nice things very often.
Rip.
His mom is nice. She is very pretty.
Rip.
Mom was very pretty when she held the baby, like a little girl holding her doll. His Boo was a pretty baby.
He lays the last strip down before him.
Pretty Baby. Baby Boo. Angel Boo. Pretty Angel.
He stands up slowly, and pads over to his secret mask. This mask is small, and brown and very plain. It's pinned to the wall like all the others, but low down near the floor. It doesn't look like it, but his secret mask is very special. His room is searched every week by the men in blue clothes, and Dr Loomis tries to probe his head for hidden things every day. His secret mask is the last place he can hide- they never look in there. When he wears it he can think all the things they don't want him to. He can remember all the names they told him to forget.
He takes it in his hands and holds it very gently as he walks back to his desk. He has to be careful, his secret mask is very old and could tear easily. He sits at the desk and places the mask on the surface. He won't put in on, not today. He doesn't need to put it on today. He only needs to look inside.
Inside the paper face various strips of old newspapers are glued together and varnished with age. The same could be said of every other mask in this room. But unlike every other mask in this room, the strips of paper that make up this mask have been carefully selected and set aside over time. A name. A place. A date. A picture. All things that they want him to forget, but he won't.
Upon the left cheek of this face is a picture of a man and his wife. Underneath is the small story that came with it.
Michael never read much as a child. He hasn't read anything at all in over 10 years. But this story he has committed to memory, hidden safely inside his secret mask.
Lawyer awarded $50,000 compensation after 5 year battle with insurance company. Mason Strode, pictured with his wife Cynthia and their baby daughter, the real estate lawyer of Haddonfield, Illinois, who challenged Yellow Lott Insurance in a landmark case, has won the 5 year struggle against the home insurance giants, as the courts finally ruled in his favour yesterday. Full story page 17.
Michael has not read page 17.
Michael doesn't read anymore. Instead he likes to look at the pictures, studying them closely until he can remember every detail. He's done it with a lot of things- feet, tree bark, bricks, insects. Faces are his favourite, especially pretty faces. His mom is very pretty, so even though she hasn't visited in a while, he can still recall exactly what she looks like- he doesn't even need his secret mask to do that. His Boo was a very pretty baby, and when he was younger he could remember her exactly. When he had found this picture, he only had to glance at it to know it was her. It didn't matter that strangers were now keeping her, she was his Boo.
He keeps her face, and her keepers names, safe in his secret mask.
He looks at it everyday.
At night, he sleeps in his bed and dreams about his Boo, and what she looks like now. She probably looks like mom, he reasons.
She's probably very pretty.
