Mask Of The Beautiful Souls

By Tammi Reynolds 

I don’t know what drove me to do it. Maybe it was because I always wanted to be beautiful. Perhaps the mask called to me. It doesn’t matter now. I put the magnificent face on mine and knew right away that something had changed in me. The mask clung to my plain countenance and I knew in an instant that I would never be the same.

I felt it snug against my skin and I understood that it was becoming part of me. The sensation was something akin to a shock, a jolt of electricity. You would think that I should try to struggle free from its grip, to try to pull it off, but there was no use. I understood that immediately and you will too. The beautiful facade represented everything I ever wanted to be and I marveled at my new face. When I touched the mask, I could feel my hand against it as if I were touching my own skin.

Soon the mask’s aura began to spread. My skin absorbed the perfect glow exuded from the attachment. It was becoming part of me. And it was perfecting me from head to toe. Every inch of me radiated beauty and I admired myself for awhile. Then I began to think and a shudder rose from the very core of my being. All at once I understood that I was not absorbing the mask. The mask was absorbing me.

The mask made its way, moving deeper into me. It settled into my mind. There, the song of the whisper-voices dwelled moving about and telling me all. I can not begin to tell you the many things I learned. The metamorphosis sunk deeper beneath my flesh, moving itself into the marrow of my bones. Once there, it began to envelop me.

When I consider how I came upon the mask, my sister’s words became a little clearer. I thought about my last conversation with her and the clarity struck me to buckling knees. She said she knew true beauty. She had found the answer to our plainness. She asked me to see and I must be quick. The mask was lying on my sister’s bed; on her pillow to be exact. Her robe lay on the bed as if it were placed to accommodate an invisible body that had been there.

At first the notion of my being swallowed up overwhelmed me. But soon I began to hear the others. The beauties who had worn the mask before me whispered back and forth, soothing me. There was no pain and fear shrunk far behind me. The feeling is one of being anesthetized as if a shot of Novocain pierced through flesh and emotion. As you can tell by my clear and concise language, I have my faculties about me.

 Eventually the mask spread to my feet. Once it reached my toes, the voices began to clamor and confuse. Things began to reverse. Here we are, at this moment in which I truly understand and know that I must record the entire experience for you. You see, the feet have begun to shrink away. I no longer consider them mine. This is of no consequence once you understand.

You must be amazed that I do not panic. There is no need. My erratic penmanship is merely caused by a sense of urgency. I don’t know how much time I have left before it reaches my hands. My legs have already been absorbed in this little time. How magical to vanish into oblivion. No. Not oblivion. I believe that I am vanishing into the mask. The others tell me so.

It is now that I need to tell you of the wonders of this feat. I feel my spirit shrinking from each cell as it is pulled into the mask. I would expect my soul to escape through my mouth in a pathetic sob, but my lips are sealed behind the veil. See how it saves me? Herein lays the magnificence, the wonder and awe: The mask will hold my very soul as it does for all of us.

I feel spectacular knowing that one day I will share this with you, reader. You must understand that I still have my faculties about me. The others urge me to tell you so. Yes. It is a magnificent journey. There is no pain, I assure you. The mask warms and calms every nerve.

It begins to penetrate deeper into your flesh, finding its way to the marrow of your bones. By then, it has reached your feet and something exquisite happens. Slowly, the tingling leaves and you feel nothing as if the weight of the world is being eased out of your soul. The emptiness is vast and nearly as beautiful as the face you become.

The weighted body releases into oblivion and the spirit shrinks up as the flesh disappears. It is moving up and I have little time but so many more enchanting things to tell.

Press your face against our beautiful souls. We will whisper the rest.