Pretty Girl

A short story of one little girls transformation from ugly duckling to a beautiful and wise swam

Everyone goes through hard times and tough situations though their life . For some people hard times happen because of a bad choice they may have made or for simply being at a certain place in the wrong time. The truth is bad things happen all the time to all different kinds of people. Anyone who’s been through it can attest to one common factor; it absolutely sucks.

For me, it felt like my life was just a series of unfavorable events that all lead back to one major incident that constructed my vision of myself. A controversial lesson in how to handle different reactions of the outsiders looking in. 

When I was a mere toddler I was severely burned. It took 37 reconstructive surgeries

and a move to a new continent to get me to the normal looking and feeling woman you see in front of you today.

Roughly 20 years ago in the blazing hot summer of Santa Catarina, Brazil there was a fire in an uptown condo. While Pr. Rob was running to take a rapid shower before heading out to teach his Tuesday night theology class at the local Baptist church. His lovely wife Fatima had set their new oven to preheat so she can later on bake a carrot cake. After all what goes better with afternoon tea and coffee than Brazilian style carrot cake. 

In the meantime their two year old played with her doll, Deborah by the kitchen table; Deborah and the little girl were inseparable. Ricele (Ree-Cel) would take her everywhere, and I mean everywhere, even the bathroom.

Ring Ring, at that time the phone rang; it was Margie the church's secretary calling to tell Fatima that the women's prayer group meeting for tonight would have to meet at their house because Margie’s husband and her were having a difficult time and he didn’t want anyone over the house.

While Fatima took a step into the dining room, she left Ricele and Deborah in the kitchen alone. It was really for no longer than two minutes, but a lot can happen in two minutes when your two year old has an active imagination.

Ricele swung Deborah into the air and she flew past the table and into the oven door that was open awaiting the carrot cake. Like any rational two year old desperate to reconnect with her best friend Ricele crawled to where Deborah landed, inside the oven. She crawled her little legs up and inside the oven to when she at last had sights on Deborah. The oven was set to a low preheat so the toddler didn’t feel any pain at first. 

However little did everyone know that the installers whom had installed the brand

new oven forget to make sure all the screws were accounted for. While Ricele tried to crawl out of the small space that was increasing in heat rapidly fast, the

door to the oven sealed shut. 

Coincidently Fatima returned to the scene of the crime and began to

scream! All she could do was scream as she tried her hardest to get Ricele out of the oven. But it was no help, she called the police and ambulance and fire department. In between the 15 minutes it took them to arrive on the scene the oven began to catch on fire, and despite Fatima and now Robs heroic attempts to pull the little girl out she was being burned alive, their precious baby girl burning before their eyes.

After the rescue and the drama comes the fun recovery part. With all the severe injuries there was no choice but to stay in the hospital for a little over a year including the 3rd birthday, Easter, Christmas, and New Year’s. If you were to compile a list of the outcomes or what there is to show of the incident, there are several third degree burns on the left side of the body, left ear was also badly damaged and half ripped off, full head of hair completely melted off. Some 1st degree burns to the bum and right side of the body. 

From age’s three to seven multiple surgeries were conducted. As well as experimental treatment to the scalp, this was a complete success. As the seventh birthday approached; even the best plastic surgeons in Brazil that money

can buy advised Rob & Fatima there was no hope for full recovery in this country, the medicine and technology is just simply outdated.

With that news such as many other immigrants they migrated to the United States, where maybe there would be some hope. Which sounds all good and dandy, but you try being a Seven year old little girl with short hair, and 3rd degree burns all over her body and to top it all off; you now don’t speak the same language that your classmates and peers speak. 

First day of second grade was possibly the worst day known to man, and yes even worse than getting burned alive. It is true what they say that, kids have a way with words. Even if you don’t quite understand what the smarty remarks are because of the language barrier. I guarantee you you’ll understand the judgmental looks. But it’s not their fault, She looked different than everyone, she sounded

different than everyone and that's because she is different than everyone.

Between the late elementary days and early middle school days a few friends had discovered this new phenomenon called, boys. The things we used to think where gross started to not be so gross, one of those things where boys. But just like we started to notice them, they noticed us. Except for Ricele, no one really noticed Ricele. She was just that girl with the blue eyes and the

big old scars. Never the ugliest one in the room, but also never the prettiest, just simply there.

One day a kid in math class innocently said something that struck a nerve. “Ricele you would be really pretty, in fact you’d be the perfect girl… You know if you didn’t have all those problems and scars”. Problem? the scars were not a problem, I thought. But then again we never stop to consider that others might see certain things as a problem; it never hindered Ricele from doing anything that the other kids were doing. So to her they were always just a part of who she was.

Emotions flaring, that very thing that set her apart from the other girls was now registered in her mind as a serious problem. For months she argued with her inner self, and at last depression kicked in. The sweet humble innocent girl became sad and annoyed at the world. 

Luckily Ricele came from a family of pastors and with their love and guidance she was able to overcome her inner sadness. Counseling helps, she developed a love of journaling. You can’t always say what you're thinking, but you can always write it down and analyze your emotions until they change.

The summer of 8th grade was when laser treatment started and the laser made the scars extremely red, as red as you could possibly imagine; as red as a tomato. She hid all summer from friends and family, the embarrassment to have anyone see her in that state was unbearable.

But when the summer was over and high school started she was down to two scars and her hair was as long and luscious as ever. Mom had also finally let her discover the wonderful world of makeup. And what wasn’t yet gone was covered from the world. From afar she was and is as normal as it can gets. 

Funny thing is high school was her revengeful years on society. She was no

longer one of the girls who got ignored she was one of the pretty girls. Ricele got asked on many dates and was even voted most popular. Who would have thought the ugly duckling would have turned into a lovely swan. 

The moral of the story is that there should always be hope. Difficult times come and go but if there’s anything I personally have learned is that there’s always tomorrow. Sure, it may take a few month of hiding from society and about 37 reconstructive surgeries, but nothing is impossible for those who choose to have hope. No matter who you are, hard times have a way of catching up to everyone. The difference is who you become after enduring your own difficulties.

Author's Note

Please be kind, this piece has very little editing and is also based off of true story.

Reviews

[robsmunn]

I like it! You can tell that it was written with a lot of emotion and there's a good basis for a story. However, as you point out there is room for improvement in respects to grammatical errors and the flow of the writing. Otherwise I enjoyed reading!

Would you mind taking a look at the first few chapters of my book? Its called Saving Coralie. Would really appreciate some feedback!