are strong enough to get through anything.”
Aaliyah felt her lip tremble. “What about you?”
“My road is more of a dirt one now, my baby, but I will always be with you.” Her mother patted her hand. “Now go make your mama some tea and wipe those tears. No one may ever make you sad about who you are.”
A few words and it felt like the world was shifted back into place. Her special marks were seen only by her parents as beautiful, but she never fully believed them, until a boy told her the same thing a few years later.
She was naive, but she just wanted to feel like she wasn’t different. That she was normal . That a boy could like a girl with a mark on her face, regardless of how ugly it might look to herself.
She had never been more wrong. The girls mocked her, saying that she couldn’t possibly think that the mark on her face made her any more special than it had any of them. She was sixteen at the time. The boy was eighteen and on the first rugby team.
She made the mistake of trusting him, believing him and giving in to him, because she wanted nothing more than just to be accepted. The girls mocked her for ever thinking she was special, because when he got what he wanted, he moved to the next girl, and forever after, she was known as the marked girl, and it was more than just physical.
***
As Aaliyah sat down in Ms. Johns’ office, the woman looked at her résumé and without introductions, began, “Why didn’t you go for something in science instead?” The woman was as intimidating as powerful women could get. Her blunt cut, black, bob hairstyle, piercing dark eyes, and a manicure that could double as claws, made Aaliyah feel like she was stuck in a small cage with a predator.
“The opportunities are quite scarce for those.” Aaliyah kept her face turned to the side, out of habit, to hide the exposed mark.
The woman barely made eye contact, as she told her more about Break Free Cosmetics. “Our clientele looks for something unique, something different, but I’m afraid the look we are after isn’t what you have. The front desk receptionist should not only be presentable—”
“I assure you that I am always presentable, I was only running late this morning and didn’t…” she swallowed, “…have time to cover up. I usually always do.” She searched the woman’s eyes, desperately hoping she could just give her a chance. “I’ve been using your product for years now. It is the only cosmetics on the market that properly covers the mark.”
“And if you are late? If today’s scenario plays out? What then?” The woman looked at her for the first time, not in the eyes, but at the mark on the left side of her face.
Aaliyah took a deep breath. “Then I’d make sure to fix myself up, here in the office, before any clients could see me. Please, I won’t slip.” She hated that this interview focussed on the fact that her face influenced the final decision, while proper interview procedure was completely being ignored.
The woman took a moment, looking at Aaliyah’s résumé and clearly mulling something over. What seemed to formulate was an excuse, rather than something honest. “While it is clear that you are dressed accordingly, you also seem to have good posture and you have a well-articulated voice for working the phones, even with that accent.” The woman finally looked her in the eyes, and Aaliyah knew what came next. It had been the same thing over and over since she came back. The woman sighed. “You are overqualified, dear.”
Aaliyah released the breath she had been holding in. “It is my face and nothing else, right?”
The woman smiled, attempting to do so kindly but somehow missing the target. “I’m just giving you an honest opinion. Our clients don’t want to—”
“But I use your product. It could actually benefit the clients to show how well it—”
“People want perfect faces…” Aaliyah flinched, “…and the best way to sell that is to