by Tiana Maria Da Costa

Everyday I put on a porcelain mask, it weighs heavily on my face, forcing me to bear an invisible pain deep within my bones and ligaments. It fills the imperfections in my skin and hides the monstrous rawness of humanity hidden within the emptiness of my hollow heart. I wear it to parties and to school, to church. I wonder if even God knows what hides behind this perfectly crafted deceit I’ve implanted in the minds of those who think they see me. I wear it to bed and wake up with it still attached, tears and cold sweat bind it onto my skin. I now start to feel it crack. It burns as it breaks. Others look at me in shock and in fear as they scream about the girl with no face.

Tiana Maria Da Costa’s “The Mask” received fifth place in the BCPW’s 2024 Flash Fiction Contest. Tiana attends Loretto College School.