Tuesday, 11 December 2007

The Lost Zit - A Short Story

Did I tell you the story about my pimple that got lost? Well, let me tell you know, then.

Usually pimples grow on faces, but my siblings and I have always had extra pimple woes. During her adolescent years, my sister’s zits were growing like weeds in a garden patch; no matter how you exterminate them [with hands, or chemically] they always manage to make a bigger comeback. My brother had it the worst. He has zits on his face and back, even till today when he’s WAAAAY over his teenage years. Probably on the neck and scalp too, but I’m not too sure about that.

I started having blackheads when I was in primary 4, and I thought they were some kind of eggs laid by little bugs inside my face [those biji-biji blackheads], and I always feared that some monster is gonna break out from my face. Until I knew. They were blackheads, prodigy of clogged pores and over-working sebum glands.

Then I had pimples in secondary school. They were little at first, and I could handle them. They then became greedy; they consumed more sebum, and grew larger than ever and this time they brought another friend: pus. They were big and angry boils, waiting for the day to erupt just like volcanoes. But I had a compulsive behaviour. I always had to pick on my skin when there’s an uneven spot. I had to squeeze them out prematurely; I couldn’t stand the feeling of them sitting there on my face, mocking me and daring me to touch them even though they hurt like hell. But my compulsive behaviour won out eventually, and they would be expelled from my face, whether they like it or not, with pain or without.

Then they started spreading their habitat. They got as far as my scalp. They went along my jawline. The resided among my eyebrows. And the blackheads aren’t any better, they went along too, but they went much farther. They got as far as my back and inside my ear.

The zits knew what they were doing. And they introduced a new breed. They were even bigger, and embedded even deeper into your skin, but surprisingly, they only hurt in the initial stage of growth. After which, they just sit there like an Empress; majestic, august, and absolutely too radiant for anyone to miss them, and too huge to be ignored. As usual, the squeezing starts upon stumbling on such creature. But struggle is futile. They will never budge. They will not hurt, but they will not burst either. I tried everyday to get rid of them. But to no avail. I give up. I’m just gonna wait for thems to disappear. Just one or two days after harbouring such thought and actually stop with the squeezing, I felt curious about them. Then I run my fingers over one of them, poking it, just out of fun. My index finger and thumb then make the playful gesture of squeezing it, but instead of a real squeeze, it’s more like a tease. Then with a sudden jolt, the contents of the pimple’s reincarnation project out from my skin like a shot gun, powerful and with full blast! I, with surprise, assessed the damage sustained by the inevitable enemy, and to my delight, damage was total. It had surrendered. I had victory in my fingers. And I will not stop until I empty the hole that sheltered such a scum. I then squeezed until I saw blood. Blood! I definitely had victory on my side. HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

The scalp and occasionally the back suffered such parasite. And very rarely, I get them on my XXX. Then one day, something unprecedented happened. A pimple got lost. It got lost, and… I guess it wandered a very long time and struggled to come back and settle on my face. But with my St Ives facial wash, it knew that once it was out, it could never return. And my shampoo did a great job at keeping it out too. It got so devastated, that it ran far, far away, and decided to make it on its own. And it did. It found a spot that would surprise even me.

It found…

My thigh. Just above the knee, there sits quietly the pimple that got lost, determined to not go down without a valiant fight. And so it grew and grew silently even without my knowledge. But before it reached maturity, I accidentally discovered its secret hideout, because I was resting my elbows on my thighs, and this particular spot hurt like a bruise. I wondered where I’d gotten such a painful bruise, and upon rolling up my pants I found it nestling comfortably on my thigh.

Intolerable. I had to get rid of it. So after recovering from my initial state of shock, I quickly put my thumbs on each side of it, and SQUEEZED. I squeezed like there was no tomorrow, all the while watching it, willing it to pop. Then it did. And the contents gushed forth with all yuckiness.

Toilet paper did its job. It cleaned up whatever that needed cleaning up. And I am victorious. Again. But the never-ending battle continues…


Moo's Colorful World said...

i love the way you expressed the pimple-topia story. It was honestly, like WOW. I didn't have too much of these problems, but i guess i will very soon get that too... Hehehe..

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