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I didn’t know the guy, no one did, he was one of those weirdos who was always sick and never spoke to anyone. He wore dark baggy jeans, winter gloves and boots, three-sizes too large sweatshirts (hood always up), surgical mask, and something similar to snowboarding goggles every day. He sat in the back corner of the classroom, never called on, never speaking out, just staring or sleeping, we could never tell because the goggles were so darkly tinted. He was a mystery and nobody bothered to try and figure him out.

I didn’t mean to, I had just walked into the locker room to see him standing at one of the sinks. He didn’t hear me enter since I was in a pair of socks and at the angle I had entered and the way his body was angled I couldn’t see his face reflected into the mirror or his hands as they moved frantically in front of him. I hadn’t noticed before but on the next sink’s rim was his mask and goggles that he so dutifully wore without fail. Now I was intrigued, what did this guy feel the need to hide? I was about to take another step forward when his hand suddenly darted into a small bag sitting on his sink and pulled out something that looked like a small vial. His limbs were jerky as he uncorked the vial and poured the contents into his hands. At first I thought it was some special lotion for his always covered skin, but wherever this. . . stuff touched his skin it sizzled. He made a strange gurgling noise in the back of his throat before slapping the stuff onto his face. An exclamation of pain and pleasure escaped him and his body shook in ecstasy as whatever was in his hands made contact with the skin of his face. More sizzling filed the air but now it was much louder and mixed with his harsh breaths. My nose scrunched up as the smell of something vile and burnt filled the air. His body seized up, with the small tremble from time to time, before going limp and letting his arms fall to his sides. I thought it was over, weird lotion, sensitive skin, just something strange in general, but that was before the blood fell to the ground. His hands were a strange glassy, pinkish color as if just healing from severe burns, but. . . but the skin of his palms were completely eaten away, all I could see was bright red of muscle, some eaten away as well, and even the dull white of bone. Dark red liquid was dripping onto the ground at a rapid pace, quickly going from a few drops spattered around to a puddle. More gurgling escaped his throat but this time it sounded like laughter. “What the hell?!” The laughter stopped and he slowly turned his body to face me. The hand that was hidden from my view looked almost exactly like the first, the front of his sweatshirt was soaked with blood, and his . . . oh god his face. All I could see was the blistered, corded muscles his face, the lipless mouth that ran blood over the blackened nubs that used to be teeth, a hole where his nose should have been, and empty eyes that stared into different directions. His eyes rolled around uselessly in exposed eye sockets, obviously been burned ten times too many to be of any visual use. Something swollen and blistered peeked through the tiny nubs of teeth and licked at the blood that still flowed freely from his face. Heavy wheezing made me realize that some of what he had put on his face trailed down and almost burnt through his throat letting small bubbles of saliva and blood peek through with each breath.
He lifted an arm and walked towards me slowly, bleeding and gurgling, leaving trails on the ground. My body was frozen and wouldn’t run like I wanted it too so badly. This. . . thing with it’s bloodied hands and face kept creeping closer with its arm still outstretched for my face. It was probably only a few minutes for it to go from the bloodied sink to right in front of me, but it felt like time had slowed to a crawl up to the point where the hand finally made contact with my skin. It burned, oh how it burned. Some sort of acid that ate through skin, muscle, and bone. With the pain my body was finally able to move. I threw myself back against the wall covering my now raw cheek. Again there was that laughing gurgle, bubbles growing before popping against the skin of its neck. I closed my eyes having forgotten where the door led out, when suddenly there was silence.

I opened my eyes but I couldn’t see, the rough fabric of my clothes covered my burns and raw skin. My skin stretched and pulled as I reached into my bag for my vial. The vial that held my obsession, my love for the burning and eating away of my flesh. I use the vial everywhere, my legs, torso, arms, but my favorite is the face. So many nerve endings to be fried away. I finish today, in the boys locker room of all places when a voice breaks the silence, “what the hell?!”