Essence Hwang. It seemed the name of a goddess, a woman beyond elegance and grace, with perfection marking exquisite features.
Unfortunately, that name belongs to me. At least, it used to. I'm sure my mother meant well, giving me such a title, expecting such a girl…and I'd always tried my best to live up to her expectations. I wonder what she'd think of me now, so horrifyingly disfigured, so proud and headstrong.
She'll never be able to tell me.
My world was going well enough, or at least as well as things could go, after a tragedy like the one I'd just lived through. I suppose I shouldn't think of what happened as a completely devastating fire - after all, I did escape with my life. But it claimed one of my finest features, one of the things that made me Essence Hwang…my face.
The doctors promised that everything would be back to normal, that I would soon be back to my former self, but by that time I'd already stopped being Essence. I was 2Face, a terrifying creature, a paradox of beauty and monstrosity. And I was proud of what I was. I still am, but in a way it doesn't really matter anymore.
The rest of the story was a blur, a strange and hasty escape from the world I had grown to know and love. As I carelessly mused about whether or not to go through with the cosmetic recreation of my face, the universe seemed to have other plans for me. Frightened was an understatement for how I felt when my parents explained it.
The mere thought that Earth would be gone, crushed from the wrath of a floating rock, was enough to shock me. The real pain, the real fear, came from when they told me I, the gruesome creature I was, would be one of the eighty who survived. So much beauty, so much light, would be destroyed…and I would live. It was sickening.
And I didn't even know if I would live.
So many would dedicate their final hours to putting together a test, a mere experiment, which theoretically could plunge us into space and toward a habitable planet. Note the word "theoretically." It was unsure that all of us could survive the plan, if any of us. We could be crushed, eaten, mutilated, or any sort of terrible side effects, leading to an eventual and certain death.
So why do I live? Why do I breathe when so many - including my mother - can't? I suppose it's too late to go back now. Precisely 500 years too late.
Here I stand - here I continue to live, continue to struggle, continue to think and to feel - a freak, a monster. I am 2Face, formerly Essence, formerly a goddess, formerly beautiful. After all the pain, I still stand.
Was it worth it? Was it worth giving up my name, my family, my planet, just to live?
I can never know. And it's too late to go back.
Unfortunately, that name belongs to me. At least, it used to. I'm sure my mother meant well, giving me such a title, expecting such a girl…and I'd always tried my best to live up to her expectations. I wonder what she'd think of me now, so horrifyingly disfigured, so proud and headstrong.
She'll never be able to tell me.
My world was going well enough, or at least as well as things could go, after a tragedy like the one I'd just lived through. I suppose I shouldn't think of what happened as a completely devastating fire - after all, I did escape with my life. But it claimed one of my finest features, one of the things that made me Essence Hwang…my face.
The doctors promised that everything would be back to normal, that I would soon be back to my former self, but by that time I'd already stopped being Essence. I was 2Face, a terrifying creature, a paradox of beauty and monstrosity. And I was proud of what I was. I still am, but in a way it doesn't really matter anymore.
The rest of the story was a blur, a strange and hasty escape from the world I had grown to know and love. As I carelessly mused about whether or not to go through with the cosmetic recreation of my face, the universe seemed to have other plans for me. Frightened was an understatement for how I felt when my parents explained it.
The mere thought that Earth would be gone, crushed from the wrath of a floating rock, was enough to shock me. The real pain, the real fear, came from when they told me I, the gruesome creature I was, would be one of the eighty who survived. So much beauty, so much light, would be destroyed…and I would live. It was sickening.
And I didn't even know if I would live.
So many would dedicate their final hours to putting together a test, a mere experiment, which theoretically could plunge us into space and toward a habitable planet. Note the word "theoretically." It was unsure that all of us could survive the plan, if any of us. We could be crushed, eaten, mutilated, or any sort of terrible side effects, leading to an eventual and certain death.
So why do I live? Why do I breathe when so many - including my mother - can't? I suppose it's too late to go back now. Precisely 500 years too late.
Here I stand - here I continue to live, continue to struggle, continue to think and to feel - a freak, a monster. I am 2Face, formerly Essence, formerly a goddess, formerly beautiful. After all the pain, I still stand.
Was it worth it? Was it worth giving up my name, my family, my planet, just to live?
I can never know. And it's too late to go back.