Deadpan Face

On April Fools' Day, Ethan Reid builds me a crystal coffin, Liam Reid custom-designs a burial dress, and Julian Reid fills the bottom of the coffin with imported flowers. To satisfy their adopted sister, Alexandra Martin, who wants to pull an April Fools' prank, they tell me to spend the night in the coffin. "If you can handle spending the night in there and actually take a joke, we'll officially acknowledge you as part of the family," they say. I'm so desperate to belong that I put on the dress and climb in without hesitation. However, the second the lid locks, I realize there's no air coming in. As the oxygen runs out, I panic and start frantically pounding against the glass, screaming for help. On the other side of the lid, Alexandra goes live, laughing as she points her phone at me. "Look, everyone. She's such a great actress. She's holding her breath until her face is literally turning purple. Talk about staying in character!" Ethan looks down at me with disdain. "Cassie, knock it off! You just got in there, and you're already throwing a fit. Stop embarrassing us." The suffocation intensifies. My lungs feel like they're about to burst, and I can't even form the words to beg for help anymore. However, Liam merely sneers at me. "You're certainly going above and beyond for some attention." Julian leans in close to the glass, clapping and laughing. "This is hilarious. You're a total drama queen!" Then, I hear Ethan talking to the camera. "She does this every single time. She's a total buzzkill who loves playing the victim just because she can't stand seeing Alexandra happy. She always has to ruin everything." I stare at them through the glass in despair. I'm not faking it. I'm actually dying!

As usual... Same answer to the same question asked. Cold, hard, dull and dry and cracked just like arid lands... How are you, however, is a normal question. The answer given in return is usually "I'm fine" and it is a clear answer that will follow. After that, the conversation would go away, but the young man's voice froze both the time and the atmosphere with his answer. The conversation was limited to a few short words, and that was what he wanted anyway...

We have differences, we are born not to impress anyone but to show them what and who we are. What if one day you'll end up losing your confidence? what if one day you'll never know who you are? what if because of one person you'll be lost your smile, lost everything including your happiness. Are you willing to trust again? to love again? Are you willing to be fooled and played again? lies... heartbreaks. betrayal..... played. fooled... pained... We all experience this, it's up to us to handle it properly. smile... laugh... mingle... meddle. Words that we can use to ease those pain words to enlightened our mood words that help us to go through and make our day complete. MASK the only thing we can use to hide what we feel inside. mask it hides the pain the heartaches and betrayal We often use a mask to simply smile to show the world that we are strong. strong enough to face the reality.

Dad was terrified of being laughed at. Every holiday, he only ever said one thing. “Do not embarrass me.” The relatives were sitting around chatting when I accidentally knocked over a fruit platter on the table. He grabbed me right there and slapped me across the face. At dinner, I reached for a second helping of pot roast, and he kicked my chair out from under me. Later, when it was time to hand out gift cards, Uncle Ray miscounted and came up one short. Without a word, Dad shoved me out into the hallway in nothing but a thin shirt. The cold cut straight through me. I pounded on the door while I cried and apologized. He did not make a sound. He turned to Uncle Ray with an apologetic smile and said, “Sorry about that. I guess I have not taught this kid any manners.” He did not know that his lessons had already conditioned me to flinch at the phrase “laughed at.” Every time I heard it, I froze and felt myself shut down. When I heard him say it again through the closed door, I turned in silence and walked toward the dark bridge at the edge of the neighborhood. I did not know what I planned to do. I only knew I wanted the noise in my head to stop. I reached the railing and stared at the water below. One thought crossed my mind. “Dad, this time, no one will ever laugh at you because of me again.”

My brother, Adrian Lupton, always says I'm the most boring person in the family. That's because every time he plays a prank on me, I always end up in tears. When he sticks chewing gum in my hair, I cry. When he pulls my chair away just as I'm about to sit down, I fall and cry, too. It leaves me with a fractured tailbone, and I spend two months lying face down in bed. But my parents always brush it off. They say he is just being playful and that I can't take a joke. And as his older sister, I'm supposed to be more understanding. Eventually, I stop crying. Even when Adrian smiles and offers me some food, I smile back. I have no idea that he has mixed peanut butter into it—the one thing I'm severely allergic to. After eating it, I return to my room. The moment I close the door, it feels as though someone is squeezing my throat shut. I can't breathe. Red hives spread across my body as I collapse onto the floor. My phone is lit up beside me. The last thing on the screen is my search: "How to stop throat swelling from peanut allergy". My consciousness slowly fades. In the next room, Adrian laughs while playing video games. Meanwhile, my parents are watching TV in the living room. No one in the house notices what is happening behind my closed door. No one realizes that I'm dying. If there is another life, I don't want to be the target of anyone's cruel pranks ever again. I just want to be loved for who I am, even if it's only once.

I worked as a caregiver at a psychiatric hospital. One day, during a quiet shift, I came across a post from my husband's widowed sister-in-law. [Just launched my first AI-generated short drama! Hope you'll check it out and support me!] I tapped on the video attached to the post. The villain's face was identical to mine. I immediately messaged her and demanded that she take the video down. Instead, she posted our chat in the family group. Then she added: "If it really bothers you, I'll delete it. It's just a shame my first attempt at starting a business has already failed..." My husband replied almost instantly: "Don't delete it!" Then he tagged me. "So, what if you played a vicious villain? That's called making sacrifices for art." "This is the first business your sister-in-law has ever started. Stop being so dramatic." My mother-in-law chimed in as well: "Your sister-in-law is trying to build something of her own. What's wrong with supporting her?" "What do you mean she used your face without permission? We're family. Why make such a fuss over something so trivial?" "She used all of our faces, and none of us complained. What, do you think your face is worth more than everyone else's?" What they didn't know was that I was an undercover investigative journalist. So yes, my face really was worth more than theirs.