Chapter 1 ; Sally's Misfortune 1

The setting sun cast long shadows across the bustling city street. Sally, a vibrant and beautiful young woman of 25, stepped onto the crosswalk, the pedestrian light turning into welcoming green. A surge of people, a human tide, flowed across the street, each with their own destination, their own stories. Sally, known for her kindness and quick wit, noticed an elderly woman struggling to keep pace, her steps faltering with age. With a smile, Sally offered a hand, her heart filled with a quiet compassion.

The older woman, grateful for the assistance, moved slowly, their steps now synchronized. Soon, only the two of them remained on the crosswalk. Suddenly, the world dissolved into a cacophony of screeching tires and blaring horns. A car, speeding recklessly, coming towards them. Sally, a split second before the impact, knew she could dodge the vehicle, but the elderly woman, caught in the path of the upcoming terror, could not.

Without a second thought, driven by an instinctive urge to protect the elderly woman, Sally pushed her out of the way. The impact threw her violently against the pavement, leaving her bloodied and unconscious.

Sally woke up, disoriented and groggy, in the sterile white of a hospital room. Her head throbbed, a dull ache that resonated through her skull. Thick, white bandages shrouded her face. She tried to speak, but her voice emerged as a strangled whisper.

A wave of dread washed over her. Desperate for answers, she scrambled out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Her heart pounded as she carefully removed the bandages, one by one, with trembling hands.

She stopped at her nose, her mind going blank. Her hands trembled, tears streaming down her face, but she didn't realize it. She stared blankly at the mirror, taking a step back, then another, and another. Her back hit the wall, her body numb, her strength gone. Her nose was gone. With a final, desperate effort, she pulled away the remaining bandages. Her reflection was a stranger, a hollow skeleton with stitched flesh on her cheek. She no longer resembled her former self.

She slid down to the floor, staring blankly at the empty space. After a while, she came back to her senses, feeling a wetness on her face. She swiped at it, again and again, but the tears wouldn't stop. She realized she was crying, and she had been oblivious. Soon, she was sobbing uncontrollably on the bathroom floor.

She felt suffocated and despair filled her heart. Suddenly, a middle-aged woman entered the room. It was her aunt. "You're finally wakes up," she said, her voice laced with a peculiar blend of pity and judgment. "I thought you might never wake up. You've been here ten days. Your boyfriend visited once, but he possibly won't see you again. Seeing your face… he's probably forgotten you." The words, cold and sharp, pierced Sally's fragile heart like shards of ice.

She paid the hospital bill, almost depleting her savings. She didn't have much left, after all, almost all of her salary had gone to her aunt.

Story continues...