I opened my eyes and tried to stand up. I felt cold and wet and my bare feet were sliding against the freezing tiles. I literally felt like I lost seventy percent of my body heat. I was sucked into that things mouth, I literally should be dead. But....I wasn't.
"AHH!"
Suddenly something made of glass crashed on the ground behind me, some of the shards fanning out into my hand. Into my hand----!
I screamed and sat up, holding my arm away from my body as if I were one of the walking dead. Where was I? I needed to go to the hospital! I had glass in my hand!
I glanced over at the woman who screamed. She was wearing an off-white, almost brown garment that was clasped together at her shoulders. The back of her curly blonde hair was tied up in a cloth that wasn't exactly the same shade as her garment. She was....pretty. And thick. And was staring at me with horrified brown eyes.
I glanced away and felt at my shirt with my other hand. I wasn't naked was I.....?
"Cesen Alexandros! Cesen!"
The woman ran past me and ran around the corner into a different room. I glanced at the bloodied surface to my hand and nearly threw up. She was getting a doctor, right? Cause I had a freaking glass shard in my hand? I...I keep getting my ass beat up. But my hands....just not the hands. I-I needed them.
I glanced at the ceilings and the walls. This building was covered with art. It was almost like a rich person who liked antiques owned this building. A building....in the stomach of a creature who floated in a ball of water. That made so much sense.
What was I going to tell my mom? Where was my mom? Where was I?!
A man suddenly appeared around the corner. He was wearing a new toga this time, and a red band in his hair, but that face was unmistakable. That Roman nose was unmistakable.
I just looked at him, my arm still awkwardly putruding from my side. "Bitch, what?"
He just looked at me and seemed to be saying the same thing, but in his Slovick language. He said something else and pointed to his head, but I of course, had no idea what the fuck he just said. Was it Russian? It couldn't be Russian, Russian sounded a lot more menacing. And plus he was wearing a Greek thing. But Greek was like....smoother...and kind of like....Spanish, right? Oh MY god, I'm giving myself a headache.
I glanced up as his speech seemed to change, now it was less Russian and more smoother. I....well....
I pointed at my still raised arm. "I've got a shard in my hand."
"Alexandros!" The blonde woman from before ran up from behind him and latched onto his arm. I watched as she leaned into him and squeezed her boobs together with her arms. When he looked down at her, she gazed up at him through her long, eyelashes.
Well. None of my business.
We just stood there for a moment as he studied me, and she gazed up at him. But when she noticed he wasn't looking at her, she turned to give me a menacing look. I shrugged. I mean, I'd be looking like that too if someone who was in my dream appeared in real life. Or was this also a dream?
Nah, this was real. My hand felt like shit.
But what was I supposed to say? He obviously couldn't understand me!
Wait.....oh no.....I comepletely forgot! What did they do to me? They changed....my face. Shitface did something to my face! I-I need a mirror---!
I glanced around the vast room in search of a mirror but came up with nothing. Finally I turned back to the man and motioned frantically at my face. "Do you have a mirror?! Do you have---?!"
He snapped his fingers and the woman glanced up at him before turning to dart through the doorway and around the corner. She came back with a hand held device that looked like it could be used for table tennis. I thankfully accepted it....but then froze.

What if....what if I was....ugly?
Stop being a wuss. Just do it. Just do it. He couldn't have possibely done that much.
My hand quivering, I slowly raised the mirror to look at my face. I sucked in a breath and held it, before letting it out in one shaky, raspy exhale. I was....me. I didn't have horns, or a third eye or enlarged eye sockets. But the stitches...they were off putting, to say the least. There were five or six neat, angry roles of stitches covering my bruised, puffy face. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this wasn't me---I mean I could barely tell. If it weren't for the nest of tangled black curls....then I wouldn't really know.
There was one line of stitches that ran across my face like traintracks----roads branching off through my forehead, across the bridge of nose, along my cheeks and chin.....through....the middle of my lips. I-I was like Frankenstein's bride. But puffier, bruised looking. My face looked crowded, as if someone stuffed stitches that were meant for my body in one area. And then, as if to finish it off, there were a line of stitches that ran across the whole circomference of my face. A-as if I had gotten some kind of face transplant or something.
I was....a science experiment.
Fuck.
I glanced back at the man---Alexander and the blond woman. They were both watching me curiously. I could feel embarressment creep up my already burning cheeks as I faught back angry tears. Embarressed tears.
I looked like a trainwreck. Trainwrecks buy their own Valentines Day chocolates, trainwrecks stay with abusive boyfriends! Trainwrecks....look like this. Fuck trainwrecks. Josh was right.
I sniffed and wiped away the hot tears, wincing when my hand brushed against the stitches. They were still there. And they were watching me. Watching me cry like a fucking baby.
With out giving it a second thought, I dropped the mirror and ran past them. I needed to fresh air. I didn't want anyone to see me. I'd probably scare them. Older people would have a heart attack, children would start crying, dogs would start barking....I needed to leave before anything more could go wrong.
Josh was so right.
But then a hand latched onto my shoulder and spun me around. It was that Alexander guy again. What did he want? Can't he see that I'm---
I glanced behind him as someone gasped. There was a crowd beginning to form near the windows. They seemed to cling to the edge of the room as they whispered amongst themselves, as if they were afraid of being within a yard of me.
No....this....this couldn't be happening!
I tried to to pull away and run, but he wouldn't let me go---and at that same time, my heart just dropped into my stomach. The whispers became louder as I struggled to pinpoint a particular voice.
The Alexander guy was saying something, but it was immediately drowned out. And even if it weren't, I wouldn't understand him anyways.
I glanced across the room as I tried to read everyone's faces. Maybe they all didn't hate me. Maybe they felt bad. Maybe they could help me find Shitface, o-or point me to a plastic surgeon. I blinked as I only saw the same emotions on repeat----fear, fear, shock, shock, disgust, disgust.
More disgust! They were all....d-disgusted.
B-but it's okay, right? Everyone has good in them. People were generally good. T-they were just afraid, that's all. Fear is understandable.
....but fear...was also deadly. I was fear....I was deadly. Dead ugly.
I stepped back and held an arm over my face. I-I could barely breathe! The light was too bright. The voices were too loud! The air was too----I'm panicking. I'm panicking, I'm panicking, I'm panicking----!
Everything in the room seem to shift to the side as I just slipped onto the floor. My eyes were filled with tears as I layed there, daring not to look anyone in the eye---and then I started sobbing.
I cried for how small I felt. For my loss of control, for my loss of identity--- I even cried because I was I was crying----in front of them. But more importantly, for the loss of my family, my old life. Something that I didn't know if I was ever going to get back.