The scar on my face was still healing, but it already seemed to have become part of my identity. People no longer saw me. First and foremost, they saw the scar.
The injury happened a month ago in a car accident. I was a passenger, and when the airbag deployed, a piece of glass dug deep into my face. The doctors acted quickly and gave me neat stitches, but they couldn’t prevent an uneven line from forming.
My dermatologist called it ‘early scar tissue,’ raw, shiny, and red. It stretched an inch above my hairline, down my eyebrow, across my cheek, and ended at my jawline. Part of my eyebrow will never grow back, and there is a dent in my cheek where the cut was deepest.
For several weeks, my face was covered in bandages. At first, I couldn’t look in the mirror. But when the wounds closed and the bandages came off, I had no choice but to look in the mirror.
My friends tried to cheer me up, calling it cool and even sexy in a mysterious way. I tried to believe them, but it was difficult when strangers stared or turned away too quickly.
The healing process was slow and uncomfortable. Every morning, I applied the creams and ointments recommended by my dermatologist and made sure my skin stayed clean and moisturised.
But no amount of effort could change the shiny, matte appearance or the sharp red lines that seemed to scream for attention. I knew they would fade over time, but the thought that they would never disappear completely weighed heavily on my chest.
Now, as I walked to my seat on the plane, I felt all eyes on me. I sank into the window seat, my heart pounding.
At least I had sat down early to avoid the crowd. I put on my headphones, letting the music drown out my emotions. Closing my eyes, I prayed for a peaceful and quiet flight.
I woke up to voices. Loud ones.
‘You must be joking,’ the man grumbled. ‘Are these our seats?’ His tone was sharp. He seemed angry at the whole world.
‘Rows 5B and 5C,’ replied a woman’s voice, curt and impatient. ‘Everything’s fine. Just sit down.’
The couple settled into the seats next to me with great difficulty and whispering. I kept my eyes closed, hoping they would leave me alone. The man had a rough, gravelly voice. ‘I don’t believe this. We pay for this flight, and this is what we get? Last-minute seats next to…’ He stopped.
‘Near what?’ the woman asked, her voice rising. ‘Oh.’ I felt her gaze on me. My skin prickled. ‘You must be joking.’
I didn’t move, my heart pounding. Please, just stop talking.
‘Hey, lady!’ the man barked. I slowly opened my eyes and turned to him. He flinched, then frowned. ‘Can’t you cover that up or something?’
I blinked, too stunned to speak.
‘Tom,’ hissed the woman, covering her nose with her sweater sleeve. ‘That’s disgusting. How did they even let her board like that?’
‘Exactly!’ Tom leaned forward, pointing his finger at me. ‘This is a public place, you know? People shouldn’t have to see that.’
I felt my face flush. Words stuck in my throat. I wanted to explain, to tell them that I couldn’t help it, but nothing came out.
‘Are you just going to sit there?’ the woman said, her voice sharp and nasal. ‘Unbelievable.’
Tom leaned over the aisle and waved to the flight attendant. ‘Hey! Can you do something? My girlfriend is going crazy.’
The flight attendant approached, her expression calm but serious. ‘Is there a problem, sir?’
‘Yes, there is a problem,’ said Tom. ‘Look at her!’ He pointed his thumb in my direction. ‘She’s upsetting my girlfriend. Could you move her to the back seat or somewhere else?’
The attendant’s gaze shifted to me. Her face softened for a moment before she turned back to the man. ‘Sir, all passengers are entitled to their seats. Is there anything I can do to help you?’
‘I just told you!’ Tom snapped. ‘She’s sitting there like that. It’s disgusting. She should cover it up or move.’
The woman added, ‘I can’t even look at her. It makes me sick.’
The stewardess straightened up, her tone cold and firm. ‘Sir, ma’am, I must ask you to lower your voices. This behaviour is unacceptable.’
Tom snorted derisively. ‘Behaviour? What about her behaviour? It’s reckless! She’s scaring people!’
The attendant ignored him and leaned slightly towards me. ‘Miss, are you all right?’
I nodded, barely holding back my tears.
The attendant stood up straight again. ‘I’ll be right back,’ she said, her voice steady. ‘Excuse me for a moment.’
As she walked towards the cockpit, Tom leaned back in his seat and muttered something. The woman next to him folded her arms and stared down the aisle. I stared out the window, wishing I could disappear.
The cabin was quiet except for the low hum of the engines. I kept my eyes fixed on the back of the seat, trying not to cry. A few rows behind me, someone was whispering. I thought they were talking about me.
The intercom crackled. The captain’s voice came on, calm but firm.