[ WP ] In this world , physical appearance depends entirely on personality . All babies are born identical . Beauty is achieved gradually through good thoughts and deeds , while the opposite is true for ugliness .

`` Beauty is achieved gradually through good thoughts and deeds, while sins will make you more twisted.'' I read this aloud. Jeez. I hate my bible studies. Always so tiring. `` Knock, knock.'' I heard some slams on my door. I headed towards the door when the door flew open. 
 
 `` Sina! Where have you fuck'n been? We've been looking all over!'' 
 Krell was waving his rough, burnt hands. 
 
 Me and a few friends always got together to play the devil's game. We bett'n and drink'n all the time. 
 
 `` Jeez Krell, you ought to at least have giv'n me a buzz.'' I was sittin' in the main space of my grandma's shack. Our house was on the ugly side of town. We were n't allowed to go near those pretty faces. Everythin' was separated. 
 
 `` This time I oughtta say no to tonight Krell. I have to go grab some food for dinner.'' 
 
 `` Right. Suit yourself.'' His wart above his lip moved with every syllable. 
 
 The distance from here to the market was 846 feet. I counted with my own shoes. When I got to the market, there were those pretty faces in the alley across from where I was. Darn, they made me furious. Always pompous and arrogant. 
 
 It was the senator's son, Rubin. Jeez. He was the beauty king, rumored to be the most beautiful. He's always on TV doin' some phony community work. They ai n't good at all. Always helping the pretty face community while we're stuck here with hole-filled roofs and nothin' to eat. 
 
 Rubin was with his groupies. All of'em rich and happy with their looks. They're the `` perfect'' children to the rest of them pretty faces. From what I was see'n, he was beating old Hickory's kid. The kid was scrawny. People know he ai n't got the money to pay for anything. He was always stealin' food from the market. Rubin do n't get ugly even if he does beat people. Those damn pretty faces think it's righteous to punish us. Every time we voice an opinion, we become ugly. Not any plain pimples and acne, but really ugly like being unrecognizable ugly. Those pretty faces do n't become happy. We were tied to our status as ugly. Life ai n't about good deeds anymore, but which bed you were born into. 
 
 I stared at them pretty faces. Grandma was in my head again. `` Do what you believe is right.'' I looked back at Rubin again. Looked to my hands. They were scarred, rough and disgusting. Next thing I knew, I was at the pretty face's necks. 
 
 `` You ugly piece of trash. Get off me you mongrel.'' Rubin was up on his feet already. 
 
 The rest of his group was snicker'n. One yelled, `` You should look at your own face! Look at that!'' I did n't know what he was talking about. I just charged back at them and planted a fist into a guy's face. All the while, Hickory's kid was in the corner looking in horror. One of them groupies threw a punch, hitting me in the rib. I knocked one of them over. It was chaos. Then, it was finished. They lay there still with their faces pretty, but bloody. 
 
 `` You ok there little feller?'' I extended my arm towards the poor boy. 
 
 He only stuttered. His eyes were full of terror. Jeez. You shoulda seen his face. He only ran outta there as fast as he could. No thank you's. Nothin'. 
 
 I walked towards the market. People gave me these twisted faces. Almost if they've seen a monster. I got 6 steps away from the market when I saw a reflection off the tinted glass. It was standing where I was and moved how I moved, but it did n't look like me. It had a big scar across his face and a few warts above his left eye. 
 
 If God gave us beauty through good deeds, who is the judge of what is good and bad? 
 
 
 
 Note from Author: I'm an amateur at this. Criticism is wanted. Thank you. 

