Masked Feelings Novels & Stories

His smiling face went dull at once. “You don’t look it.” He didn’t hide it or fail to call me out on it. I took in a very sharp breath. I’ve always been able to mask it all. Mask every thought, every fear, happiness, grief, every single feeling I felt. Now it shouldn't be any different.. “Yea. I just wish I could do something to her for what she did to me.” I muttered, I wasn’t lying as it was the truth but not just the truth about what got me in this mood.

Silence. At that moment, it felt like she had peeled me out of my clothing. I wouldn't have minded if she had, but what I felt was that she had taken away my shield by removing my mask from my face, unveiling my biggest scar. The sensation was like my shield had been ripped away, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

Instead, I masked my pain with a cold, detached expression. "Fine," I responded, my voice devoid of any emotion. "If it meant nothing, then it means nothing to me either. Let's go back in before people start having ideas." Jessica's face contorted further, her eyes widening with disbelief. The hurt in her gaze was palpable as she took a step back, her mouth agape. I could see the realization begin to dawn on her, that her actions had struck a chord deep within me, even if I refused to admit it.

Nothing seemed to be working. The worst part of all this was having to deal with the empty feeling in my chest. I didn’t feel pain or even humiliation, just a numbing feeling that had made a home in my chest. It made everything feel distant and unreal. Even my own emotions felt foreign, as if they were trying to reach me through layers of brick. I hadn’t even met him, not even once. And that alone made things bearable.

Maya kept talking but I remained silent sobbing quietly in my pillow. I’m sure she noticed, the pain I felt was deep, and words couldn’t express it. Maya eventually realized I wasn't just being dramatic, she noticed when she tried to force me to turn and speak to her, but seeing me cry also broke her. I looked into her eyes and saw pity. One of the most terrible feelings I hate, I despised it when people feel pity towards me. It makes me feel small, rejected, broken, weak, unwanted. I wanted to act strong but my demeanor failed me. She pulled me into her arms.

How dare him accuse me of such thing. "Well you want to people to pity you with your fake tears" I didn't even know there was tears in my eyes, until i touched my face and felt the tears everybody started talking about me. I turned to leave as i felt embarrassed. How can he accused me of such thing I felt anger boil inside my vein just as i was about to give him a piece of my mind, i heard a mysterious voice. "I don't think you're right"

I gave him a smile that reflected the sadness and pain I am feeling. He reaches out to hold my hand but I inch away from him, still feeling a little bit of resentment towards him. "I know and I am sorry to make you feel that way." He reaches out for my hands again and grabs it tight as he said, "You think, you are the only one who is feeling torn about all this? You're wrong." The seriousness of his voice made me look at him. His face has become unreadable and my spine straightens s I felt the chill making its way down.

Which means it’s a conversation we have regularly. “Yeah, you know, you keep saying that, but I think when you find her, you will change your mind.” “Doubtful. Especially considering I wear gloves to avoid meeting her.” “I don’t think you need physical contact or eye contact. That is bullshit, I think. I think it’s a feeling, something you can feel in the depths of your bones. Like you see them and your breath is stolen from your lips, the clouds part, and the skylights up when they smile.”

My chest rose and fell unevenly. “Another one.” I hated that I was listening to him, I hated that it was helping. Behind him, voices blended together into meaningless noise. I vaguely heard Harper move forward. Something about Mason being pathetic and getting a life. Something that made several people laugh. But the words never fully registered. Everything felt kind of distant. Muted even. Like I was under water or something. I don’t even think I’ve felt this way before. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten this angry before.

At the little flowers painted along the edge, delicate and pretty, like someone had tried to make something ugly look beautiful and had not quite succeeded. And then the feeling changed. The gratitude curdled into something colder. The hope in my chest turned into a different kind of feeling, one I did not want to name. I was looking at her, at the mask, at the thing that covered her face, and I could not help it. The disgust rose up from somewhere deep inside me, somewhere I did not even know existed. Her mask was ugly. And I knew, I absolutely knew, that what was underneath it was even worse.