Eddie had to deal with people staring at him all his life, he eventually even got used to it. It was his most prominent feature after all, a large straight scar which ran from his right temple down his face, close to the eye, through his cheek, splitting both his lips and giving him that false cleft chin. When he turned 18 he planned to talk to a plastic surgeon about having it fixed, but that wasn't for another 7 months. After a while through school, his friends barely even saw it, it was like a mole that you get used to when you see it hundreds of times.
Sometimes people would ask him how he got it, and he would laugh and say he cut himself shaving, or that he's the 'real' Harry Potter. He never spoke of what had really happened.
One night Eddie was driving home from a dance at the school, alone, again, as always. Seems that while his facial features were accepted by most, no one really wanted to date 'ol Scarface. He let his mind drift on that topic for a second when suddenly a deer dove in front of his car. Lightening quick he skillfully avoided a collision, but the resulting skid left his car parked neatly on the side of the road with two flat tires. Being like most people who only carry around one spare tire, Eddie realized he was pretty much screwed and began to walk towards home. Jackson, Eddie's father, did not believe in cell phones and would not even consider allowing Eddie to have one. The arguments were pointless. "What if there's an Emergency?" he'd plead.
"Well then you can use someone else's phone, after all, all the other kids have them, right?"
The thoughts of the arguments came clearly to mind now, anger rising in him. "Not when I'm alone in the middle of the night asshole!" he screamed to no one, as he was on an undeveloped stretch of Route 67.
Not more than 5 seconds after the pointless outburst a pair of headlights appeared behind him. "Sweet." He thought, of course, other kids would be coming home from the dance, he'd be able to hitch a ride back home and go get his car tomorrow.
An unfamiliar small grey pick up truck rolled to a stop next to him, he opened the door to one of the most beautiful young women he'd ever seen. "Looks like you're in a bit of trouble," she said to him. "Hop in."
"I live about 3 miles up 67 here, thanks for picking me up." He was nervous, his heart raced, there was something about her, the perfect shoulder length dark hair, her steely blue eyes. The scent of her perfume, not to strong, but just a hint, just the way it was supposed to be. He didn't see any more than that, because he was too nervous to check her out. "M-My name is Ed- Eddie, actually that's my middle name, my real name is Thomas Edison Peters, I was named after the inventor." he blurted. "Shut the hell up!" he thought to himself, "You're acting like a complete spaz."
She chuckled lightly, he knew she sensed his nervousness and felt like the heir to the throne of the King of Dumbasses. He also noticed her eyes never even scanned his scar, it was like it was invisible to her. She smiled.
He thought he was going to vomit, how could a beautiful girl like this be so perfect in every way and not be instantly repulsed by him?
"Funny, I go by my middle name too, never thought much of Phoebe as a first name, sounds like an ancient grandmother's name." She said.
He laughed, everything was natural about her, it was like they were fated to meet.
"Call me Jenny, Jenny Franklin, pleased to meet ya!"
His eyes widened. There are moments that last forever, like God hit the pause button on the remote control of your life. He was 5 years old again in his mind. Standing in the living room of the 2 bedroom apartment he and his folks lived in before moving here. He had a straight razor in his hand, the kind barbers use to give those unbelievably close shaves. Blood covered his hands, and he felt a burning sensation as hot liquid poured down his face. He suddenly felt the sting of pain, but frozen, only stared at the white wall now covered in his own blood. His left index finger dripped with the crimson ichor. In perfect penmanship, even though Eddie was right handed, read the words "PJF WILL END YOUR LIFE". He ran out the door and threw the razor into the woods. No one ever knew where he had gotten it to begin with, but the police unsuccessfully searched every inch of the back woods while the doctors diligently stitched his gaping facial laceration.
God unpaused his life. Phoebe Jennifer Franklin! His throat burned, sweat immediately beaded up on his forehead and his now widened eyes discovered something upon the dashboard of the small grey pickup truck he had not noticed before. A straight razor, the kind barbers use to give those unbelievably close shaves.
|
