An unexpected gift from a secret santa arrived,I thought miserably. That was all it had taken for my life to derail even further, and it was why I was angryly scratching this story onto the walls in federal prison, instead of happily telling it to my friends or family. I wanted to scream. So I did. Loudly.


One of the other prisoners had informed me that the guards were lazy and abusive. They wouldn't bother checking on screaming prisoners until the morning count. In the few days I had been here, she had been proven right many times. She died in a prison fight the guards did nothing to stop less than 24 hours ago. She was the only prisoner to talk to me since I got here on December twenty third, likely because I was left ugly and faceless in an acid attack that killed my best friend, and ruined my beauty a few years ago


When my throat felt raw from screaming, and angry tears streamed down my ugly, featureless face, I resumed the agonizing process of scraping the story of the disgusting girl without a face who was stuck in prison on Christmas onto the harsh, plain prison wall with the dentures that had replaced my teeth after the attack.