[ WP ] You live in a world where each lie creates a scar on the liar 's body . The bigger the lie , the deeper and larger the mark . One day , you meet someone that only has one scar ; it is the biggest one you have ever seen .

I pass the open door of my favourite cafe, a warm plume of caramel scented air greets me, inviting me and pulling me off the cold winter street. I let myself get carried over to the bar, expecting to see the usual waiter; a burly man in his 40s wearing the usual faded suit jacket and dark jeans. As I look up, my breath is plucked from my lungs. I are n't greeted by the thinning blond hair and piercing blue eyes I expected, but a girl. Soft hair, brown and untamed cascaded over her shoulders on to the pristine white shirt and onto her bust. Everything seems to be in slow motion as my eyes trace every contour and shape of her body in detail. Unlike me, or any of the other customers, who's hands are littered with small flecks of white, which was the cost of keeping face in today's society, she was completely pure. From her head to her toes, not a single blemish on her silk skin. She is the definition of beautiful. Her delicate, porcelain hands clasped together in front of that short black dress, which is formal but still very attractive. Green eyes flicked up with a look of coy and curiosity as a faint smile worked it's way onto her soft peach lips. I blush. Her voice resonated into my mind, cutting off my thought. Matching her appearance, her words are softly spoken and sweet. The type of voice that reminds you of home. 
 
 `` Hi, my name's Mei. What are you ordering today, sir'' she asks with enthusiasm. 
 `` Uh... a..'' I fumble through my speech like a nervous child on his first day of school `` A number 7 please'' I falter for a moment after realizing my mistake. There is no number 7 on the menu. 
 
 As soon as the words leave me, her eyes narrow. The persona of before has left her and now, all I can think of is danger. She asks me to follow her in a quick and monotone voice. That voice reminded me of a killer. Her speech and her walking pattern, as she walks through to a separate room is ruthless and efficient. No wasted movement. I follow nervously, almost tripping over myself and take a seat opposite her in the exquisitely decorated room I now find myself in. A square table, wooden and stained dark, separates us. 
 
 `` So Mr.. Hudson. You requested a model 23, complete organ transplants. You've transferred 14 million, half of the payment and were ready to begin.'' 
 
 I do n't understand. I'm panicking. Did she just say organ transplant? I desperately try to think of a way out of this situation but I'm distracted by the sight of Mei taking her formal shirt off to reveal a very thin, white top underneath. She looks so damn perfect. I've gained momentary relief from my panic just by the mere sight of her. That's when the real Mr Hudson walks in. He is very old and withered, covered in long, deep scars, spiralling across his body. He must be about 80, and he speaks with a dry, raspy voice. 
 
 `` I'm here to see Mei'' 
 
 he says almost innocently. Mei walks to meet him and that's when I see it. A huge, deep purple scar under the thin shirt she's wearing, swimming from the top of her neck all the way down to the small of her back, and then way past where I can see. She approaches him calmly whispers something in his ear. He raises and eyebrow and they both smile. My sense of danger kicks in again, and adrenaline starts to course through my veins. I get it now. 
 
 `` Now then sir, as you are probably aware, there has been a confusion between you and Mr Hudson here'' she says gesturing to the old man with an open palm. 
 
 She does n't have to tell the truth like the rest of us. 
 
 `` Do n't worry sir.'' She walks towards me with a smile. A smile of malice. 
 
 That's not her body. 
 
 `` You're going to be just fine.'' She smiles as her green eyes turn cold and run through me. 
 
 That's not her fucking body.
