"The Face Within (3-5)" by Esther SP. Buhrman

Charlie Slade sat hunched over on the front steps of his porch.  He knew the sun was shining, the sky was blue, but he would not look up.  His blue eyes stayed, content in the darkness of his own shadow.  His mouth was set in a grim line and at times he tightened his jaw.  Coldness inside him made him shiver, and he wrapped his muscly arms around himself, helplessly.  In his mind, the scene played over and over again, tormenting him.  He saw fire, demon arms that clawed ravenously in his car.  Callan was trapped inside, trying desperately to get out as the fire licked his face, body and hands.  Charlie had carried Callan out, tears streaming down his face, knowing it was all his fault.  Now, all he could hear were Callan's screams, haunting and mocking him.
 

"Charlie?"
Charlie jerked violently out of his nightmarish reverie and looked up to the warmth of his brother's blue eyes.
"Hey, little bro!" Charlie managed a cheerful grin.
"Don't call me that," Callan muttered.
"Well, you'll always be my -"
"Yeah, yeah.  I know."
Charlie hesitated.  "The mask...it looks alright..."
"You wanna wear it?" Callan asked with a bitter smile.  "It makes me itch, you know, but at least it stops everyone staring at me like I'm some kinda freak." Callan smiled brightly.  "But, hey, at least I don't have to wear this for too long.  I mean, I'm getting my face fixed so it's brand new -"  Callan broke off, as he saw Charlie's eyes fill with tears.
"What's the matter?" Callan asked.  Charlie knew that his news was going to destroy Callan, but it had to be told.  He whispered something and Callan strained to hear.
"Speak up, Charlie.  I can't hear you."
"Cal, mum and dad..."
"Yeah, what?"
"They can't afford to have your face fixed."
 

Charlie watched Callan's hope die in his eyes, his face crumple, as he sagged on the porch.  Pain and rage blazed in Callan's eyes.
"But...but I can't live like this! Look at me! I'm a monster! Do you think this mask is going to work forever? People will just wonder what's behind it..." Callan started to cry.  It did not sound human.  Wrenching sobs tore at his body, making it shake violently.  Charlie put his arm around Callan, but Callan tore it off in fury.
"You did this to me!" Callan screamed ripping off his mask and showing his scarred face.  He grabbed his older brother by his white singlet and flung him to the ground.  Charlie did not resist.  He took the blows knowing he deserved more, until Callan exhausted,  stumbled into the house.  Callan locked himself in his room and picked up a glass framed photo of himself with Damien.  He gazed at himself.  He had been handsome, but now...He saw himself in the mirror and heard a hideous cry from the depths of his soul and he flung the photo at the mirror.  He heard the glass shatter and watched the monster fall to pieces around him, and he cried on his knees in a broken world.
 

Chapter Four
 

Starlight glittered on the litter of broken glass as Callan lay on his bed in the night's shadows.  Charlie softly knocked on the door.
"Callan?"
Callan was quiet for a moment and then he answered in a hoarse voice.
"Yeah?"
"Come out...Have some dinner..."
"Mum and dad back yet?"
"Not yet."
Callan got up, his feet crunching the glass as he moved towards the door and opened it.  Charlie stood there, his face bruised and his right eye swelling.
"It's not that bad," Charlie smiled.  "C'mon let's eat." Callan followed Charlie down the hallway into the kitchen.
"Well, Cal, it's your fave."
"What? Lasagne?"
"Yeah." Callan gave a small smile and watched his brother set the table and sit down.
"What's wrong? Not hungry?" Charlie asked.  Callan shook his head.  He sat down opposite Charlie and picked up his fork.
"I'm sorry , Charlie.  Really, man," Callan said softly.  "I...I didn't mean to hurt you like that."
"I deserved it -"
"It wasn't your fault!"
Charlie's jaw hardened.  "It was, Callan!"
"You did everything you could.  I know you did," Callan said firmly.  Charlie shook his head sadly.  He dropped his head into his hands.  Callan held his brother's arm in a death grip.
"Charlie, please.  Don't make things worse, o.k? You saved my life."
Charlie looked up, tears in his eyes.
"Yeah, you did.  If you hadn't gotten me out quicker, who knows? All of my face could have gone...and I only have minor burns on my body.  Hardly anything."
Charlie smiled weakly.
"Believe me, Charlie," Callan pleaded.
Charlie nodded.  "I believe you."
Callan's face broke into smiles.  "Where's my mask?"
"In the lounge."
Callan got up.  "Don't get it now," Charlie said quietly.
"Why not?"
"You don't have to wear a mask with me, bro.  Besides, it itches.  Give yourself a break, huh?"
Callan laughed. "Alright."
 

Chapter Five
 

Callan walked to school, his mask in place.  He preferred to walk in the shadows where the sun could not touch and expose him so much, but at school, people saw and people stared.  It made him wish he were invisible.  He put on a cheerful smile and said "hello" to the people he passed by.  They all walked away, never seeing the smile die on Callan's face.  Already he was forgetting people's smiles.  At lunch, he usually was with his huge group of friends, but not one friend had said anything to him.  He only caught a flash of their eyes as they stared and passed him by.  It made him miserable thinking that maybe he had never had a true friend in his life.  Someone that accepted him the way he was, inside.  He found a secluded bench under a tree and sat down, eating his lunch to the noise of groups of friends around him.  He had never felt so alone in his life.  He was beginning to wallow in self-pity when he noticed Josette sitting alone on stairs nearby.  He felt his heart go out to her.  She had looked up at that moment.  Her hair like night, her eyes always a sea at storm and the smile she gave nearly broke Callan's heart.  "Josette," he whispered as he watched her walk away.  The noise around him that had made him sad was now meaningless.  All he could feel was the warmth of a smile in a silence where no words were spoken and everything had felt right.
 

On his way home, Callan passed the majestic mansion that was crumbling to pieces, but still maintained its dignity.  He stood there looking up at it.  He heard the wind blowing through the windows, scraps of curtains fluttering.  It was a lonely, deserted house.  Callan had wondered why nobody had come to restore it.  A long time ago it was the most beautiful house in the neighbourhood.  Families all adorned in their opulence had lived there.  There had been warm lights and endless laughter.  Now, there was only the coldness, the whispers of ghosts and the endless wind swirling around in the emptiness.  The creaking of the ancient rusted gate made him walk away quickly.  Maybe the place was haunted.  Callan would not be surprised.
 

As Callan walked towards the reserve that resembled more of a small forest, he heard a beautiful sound and like a blind man, he walked and reached towards it, wanting to hold the feeling forever.  The sun had transformed the trees to graceful beings of burnished gold and dancing amongst them, was Josette, a ballerina in a milk-white dress.  She was singing as she danced and she had the voice of an angel.  Callan hid behind a tree and watched her with large, wondering eyes.  He never noticed his tears.  This was not the reserve, but another world.  Josette ended her dance and song and alighted on a log, her dress spread fan-like.  Callan stumbled amongst the ground cover of twigs and branches.  Josette saw him and her large, soft eyes were frightened for a brief moment.  Callan walked towards her and sat beside her.
"I'm sorry.  I ruined something there, didn't I?" Callan asked softly.  Josette shook her head.
"You were, wow..." Callan shook his head, groping for words.  "I've never heard someone sing or seen someone dance like that before."  Josette laughed a silvery laugh that rippled through the grove.
"Do you do this...a lot?" Callan asked.  Josette looked at the soft white flower she held.  A few petals fell from it and drifted away on the breeze.  She looked into his eyes and smiled.  "Sometimes."
"Do you live around here?"
Josette nodded.
"Same here."
"Your mask..."
 

Callan had forgotten all about his face in Josette's presence.  She had made him feel his old self.  Like nothing had ever happened.  He looked at her, embarrassed.  "Is there something wrong? Does it hide too little? Can you see my face?"
"It hides too much, Callan.  Take it off.  let me see your face as it is."
Callan hesitated.  "Nah, it would be better if I just left it on."  He laughed shakily.
"Our face is our mask.  It hides what's truly in here," Josette placed her hand over her heart, "and that is the face within."  Callan was mesmerised, and he nodded slowly.
"The only thing people see is the scars.  They don't see me."
"I see you, Callan," Josette said, her musical voice soothing the hurt inside him.  Callan took off his mask and looked down.  The sun shone on his golden hair and a radiance emanated from him.  He grimaced and cursed quietly.  "It always hurts," Callan whispered.  He saw Josette's delicate hand touch his face, lifting it up to face her's.  She brought her face close to his until all he saw were the stormy blue eyes of a dove, and then her head lifted up and Callan felt Josette's lips touch his forehead.  He thought he heard himself sigh and he closed his eyes as the hurt flowed away and warmth melted the harsh coldness inside.  Then, like a beautiful dream slowly fading, Josette drew away.  He opened his eyes.  Josette's ebony hair moved in wave-like motions in the breeze, and the sun was dying behind her, but there was still light in her eyes.  An eternal lamp, Callan thought.  His voice was hoarse as he spoke to her.  "You didn't have to do that, Josette."
Josette laughed.  "I wanted to Callan," and she winked.  They laughed together in the dying rays of the sun, until they were only black, smoky silhouettes that joined the night sky and the diamond stars.