Portrayal of a Face

As our eyes met, she frowned at me unfeelingly. Her brow arched like the wood of a bow and the arrows were her piercing eyes. They stared distantly at me, large and green like a cat's, caressed with sadistic black rings. The pupils were large and dilated as if there was no light, but the sun spat rays that kissed her pale skin; a snow white tan that showed all too many flaws. Scars and blemishes danced upon her flesh, her ugly face. Though, on account that her head skewed forward as if in shame and mortification, she knew this. Her nose was of German origin, thickset like a pumpkin and ended with a disk-shaped needle head. Her cheeks were round and showed no shadow belonging to cheekbones- her skin was too thick for it. Two lines made-up her thin lips, whitened from her foundation and cracked like dirt in the Arizona heat. Her jawbone was barely visible, as well as her chin, due to the obesity surrounding it. She had no smile lines, nor a smile at all. Unhappily she whimpered, and mascara smeared down her face. A black waterfall had dried before. She hated me, she wanted with all her might to make me look away. I felt it was only fair too do so, she had done no wrong to me. And so I smashed the looking glass; I took the mirror down.