Addicted to a Pretty Face

Addicted to a Pretty Face
By Airafleeza


It was a pretty face.
A pretty face on the TV screen, on some show or whatever that my friends and I happened to come upon while switching channels, looking for something to watch.
At first glance, I spoke out, “Oh, he’s cute.” They giggled and laughed. But as soon as those words left my mouth, they left my head as well. I simply forgot about the man on the TV with the dark brown hair and glassy green eyes and could smile so dashingly.
Until, that is, I noticed him being interviewed on some show, celebrating the fact that the nameless, adorable man was going to be in some odd movie in a weeks. A science fiction one.
Before I knew it, he started popping up everywhere. In my favorite magazines, in the news, on the radio… and without meaning to, I made him everywhere. I read about him, eager to find out his name, his childhood story, his birthday, what other shows he’s been in and where he lives. I discovered that at one time, he had a short career in singing, not even able to be a one-hit wonder. I soon was a fanatic of his songs, buying his one and only CD and listening to it on my MP3, on the computer, in my DVD player while I did homework.
“You’re obsessed!” my parents would speak to me in a serious tone with stern faces and glares. “You’re addicted to this man you don’t even know! It’s unhealthy!”
I shouted at them. I screamed. I told them they would never understand. I would never, ever fall into that terrible pit of addiction that was so impossible to get out of for most people. I was too reasonable to fall.
No, instead I shouted at them I was in love. It was not an obsession or an addiction. It was too special. Moreover, I knew this man. I knew everything. Everything single last thing about him.

It was a year later. My parents grounded from the world. Music, TV, the computer, the movies, friends… they grounded me from everything. However, they didn’t realize I could sneak out while they slept. They did not realize they couldn’t ground me from the world. Or the man. He was my world.
The more they tried to pull me away, the more I hung on. My reasonable self had too succumbed into loving the man in the movies with the smile and the pretty face.
Finally, my chance had come. He was coming into a nearby city for an autograph signing. I didn’t even bother to ask my parents; just like back then, they still wouldn’t understand.
With no thought to it, I hitchhiked and walked, not worrying about my safety once. Not really worrying about all the teenage girls who have been kidnapped and killed at dark.
When I got there, I waited in the seemingly endless line for hours and hours. Most people had given up and left. Some had tried to cut me. Nevertheless, when my time came, I nearly died.
He was right in front of me.
He was smiling.
Without thinking once more, I jumped over the table and hugged him.
Together. We could finally be together. My parents would take back their foolish accusations and approve him.
But that didn’t happen.
It all went wrong.
His few fansites never said anything about him be a germaphobe.  
Everything was blurry after that. Like a foggy mirror…
I remember big security men coming at me and pulling me away. Cold, unfeeling objects going around my wrists. Questions. A phone call. Disapproving and ashamed glares coming from my parents. Getting into a car. Walking up the stairs. The noise of a lock being set on the outside of my door and me taking a shower,
Suddenly, my reasonable side of myself spoke out.
He never loved you, it said.
Yes, he did.
Then why did he send you away?
He was scared, yes. That’s it. Such commitment can scare people at first until they accept it.
You know they were one sided feelings… do not deny it.
Shut up.
He is just a pretty face. That is it. Pretty on the outside, ugly on the inside.
Shut up…
You know I am right.My reasonable self spoke in such a way that I imagined the faceless voice smiling smugly. It could sense I was weakening. An easy defeat.
“SHUT UP!” I screamed aloud. “You don’t know anything! STOP TRYING TO TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME!”
He was never yours, it muttered in a calm voice that was uncanny.
I ran out of the shower and grabbed my razor from the wooden drawer.
“I’ll make you shut up!” I laughed and cried. “I don’t want to hear you ever again!”
Look at yourself, it said in a stern tone, as stern as my parent’s faces. Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.
I had always had a pretty face.
That’s what I expected to see in the mirror.
Instead, there was a crazy, red-faced and teary girl in the mirror with an ugly expression. She held a razor to her wrist like she was going to kill herself…
I don’t know why, but the realization suddenly just hit me, hard and fast.
To my complete horror, it was me.
I had turned into this unreasonable, addicted creature in the mirror.
I had fallen... into that horrible pit...
All because of a pretty face.