A New Life

Darcy 

"I don't know how she managed to survive," the shocked voice was the first thing I heard as I woke up. 

I tried to blink my eyes open fully, but I couldn't see out of one of them, and the other eyelid felt too heavy for me to lift. Where was I? Was I dead? Was this heaven? 

I glanced down at my body and felt bile crawl up my throat. White bandages had been wrapped around me from head to toe. I looked like an embalmed body. 

With a cry of horror, I staggered out of the bed, almost falling flat on my face. The tray at my bedside crashed to the ground along with a clipboard. The clattering sound caught the attention of the two uniformed women in the room with me. 

"Ma'am, what are you doing?" The shorter one cried, as they began to race toward me. 

Determination pumped through my vein like adrenaline and I dragged my exhausted body through a door to the side and shut it behind me, twisting the knob to lock it. 

"Call Doctor Peters!" I heard one of them bark. 

"Ma'am, please come out of there. We can help you if you come out."

"No," I mumbled, shaking my head, nobody could help me.

"Have you called the doctor?" One of them asked, "Get him here now. She might hurt herself in there and undo all our work." 

I tuned out the rest of their panicked exchange, glancing around the room. 

I was in a clean, sterile bathroom and I hobbled to the mirror and stared at my reflection with growing dread. The bandage was wrapped around my head too, with only my eyes peeking through. One of them was swollen shut and the other was almost in the same state. 

Sobbing, I grabbed the edge of the bandage and began to unwrap my head. When I was done, a scream tore out of my mouth and I turned to the toilet bowl at my side and threw up.

I had been hideous before, with the severe burn scars and badly healed scar tissue that was my face, but now, I was truly grotesque. My hair was cut into jagged uneven strands and deep lines had been scarred into my face which was discolored, bruised and battered. 

Furious, I smashed my fist into the mirror and watched the shards rain down to the floor. 

I dropped to the floor and began to sob, body trembling. 

Why hadn't I died after what Cora had done to me? There was no use continuing to live. I was repulsed by my own self, and I had nothing left. Not even my child. 

I reached for one of the jagged pieces of glass, ready to end my pathetic existence just like Cora had wanted. 

Suddenly, the door clicked open and a man in a blue scrub walked in and took a seat on the ground at my side. 

"What are you doing? Get away from here! Leave me to die!" I covered my face with my hands, ashamed. 

"There's no use covering it. I've seen it. I've seen it in full details. I was the one who bandaged it," he shrugged. 

"You should have left me to die," I said furiously, "I have nothing left." 

"From what I can see, you've had a scarred face for many years. So what exactly is new here?" 

My head shot up and I stared at him in horror, wondering how he could be so so insensitive to my plight, "Who are you?" 

"My name is Peters and I'm a plastic surgeon. You were brought here six days ago by a kind stranger and they made my colleague swear to do anything to keep you alive. I was brought all the way from Australia to come and see you, and I can't leave until I've done everything in my power for you." 

My brows furrowed, "I-I don't understand. Who is the person that brought me here?"

"Did you hear what I said? I'm a plastic surgeon." 

I shook my head in hopelessness, "I don't h-have any money. Just leave me to my fate." 

"I was given ten million dollars as a base payment, Miss Graves," the doctor said, making my mouth to drop open in shock. 

What? Who would waste that kind of money on me? Who was this mysterious savior? Why would they do this? 

"Why?" I blurted out the question after much deliberation without any answers. 

The doctor rose to his feet, "I don't know, but that's not what is important here. What is important is do you want to do this? Do you want to reclaim your life or will you end up throwing yourself into a bridge after all my hard work? Because if that's the case, I suggest you leave right now." 

I clambered to my feet, avoiding looking in the mirror, "You don't understand," I choked out, "I have nothing left to live for. I have no family, no friends, I don't even have the child I suffered for nine months to carry." 

He stared at me without pity, "If you think your case is the worst I've ever dealt with, think again. I don't need your sob story. You've survived so many difficult things, Darcy. And there's a reason you survived six days ago." 

I asked the question I'd been wanting to ask since he walked into the bathroom, "Can you fix me?" 

"Yes. Do you want me to fix you? Are you ready to take charge of your life, Darcy?" 

Was I? Since the accident that had robbed me of most of my family and changed my life, I had been Darcy Graves, the terrifying girl with the twisted face. The one everyone laughed at, taunted, and ran screaming for. 

Could I actually be anything else? Well, I wouldn't know unless I tried. I swallowed down the knot in my throat and faced him, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. 

"I'm ready."