( open ) this state of mind, it's beautiful

[juliet cross]

"god, you're so ugly today." juliet murmured to herself in her mirror, taping the long cloth back over it when she was finished putting the last of her make-up on. she hated the mirror that was in her room. it was hard finding a piece of clothing large enough to cover it when she didn't need it. juliet pulled back her hair into a messy ponytail, not in the mood to have it hanging around her shoulders like it usually was. with a yawn she sat back on her bed, shrugging the long grey and white striped top off to replace it with a tighter light blue one; it was then covered by a hoodie. lifting her hips she shimmied out of her pajama pants and reached for the black skinnies she often wore, pulling those on with a small grunt. getting up off her bed she tilted her head down and looked at herself, frowning. "still looks terrible. fuck," juliet rolled her shoulders before hesitating. would anyone see the scars on her face? touching her nose where the dog had done the most damage, she rushed back to her mirror and ripped the cloth off, looking at herself.

to everyone else, the scars were practically nonexistent. you couldn't tell under the layers of flesh colored make up and even then, if she was going without make up, the scars didnt stick out or anything. but to juliet, that was all she could see. obsessed with her scars she panicked and threw the cloth back over the mirror. hurriedly taping it back in place. the pills she took helped, but the scars never went away. juliet hesitated again before she left her room, slamming the door and running for the common room. there was nothing there for her, but there weren't any mirrors, either. juliet entered the common room breathless, taking a seat in one of the bean bag chairs that the hospital had offered the patients. something like 'home comforts' or some shit like that. timidly juliet peeked around, biting the inside of her lower lip when she saw no one familiar. she felt bad for those with dementia - they never remembered anyone anyways. "shut up, shut up!" juliet hissed to herself, burying her head in her hands. doctors were positive she had a mild form of schizophrenia, but none of the tests has proven it. juliet didnt hear voices and even then she wouldn't admit to it. she was here because her parents thought she was ugly, not because she was crazy.

juliet whimpered again and lifted her head from her face, scared that someone would approach her. they would see her scars and call her scarface!