Gia
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I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. My face was pinched in pain, eyes a little bloodshot, skin paler than usual, and my hair resembled a rat’s nest. Other than that, there was no outward sign of the fire that burned beneath my skin; it felt like it should be melting, yet it looked normal. I touched the back of my neck tentatively again, careful not to press too hard. It still burned and ached.
I pushed my hair to the side gently, hoping to catch a glimpse of it in the mirror, but the angle was all wrong, unfortunately. Frustrated, I grabbed my phone and took a picture at an awkward angle. Quickly I enlarged the image. My flesh was raised in a pattern as if branded with hot metal, which kind of matched what I imagined that would feel like. I frowned. The design was a sun
