I’ve always been an outcast.

No one ever talked to me, which is why I love my freckles. I love to take a pen and use it to connect them. They were there for me, when no one else was. Everyone thought I was weird, so I would use my freckles as an escape from reality; they were comforting to me. I even stole an expensive lotion that promised to keep skin extra hydrated and extra soft. I was willing to do anything for my freckles.

Around age eight, something changed. I had ran out of my special lotion, and the store I get it from was out of stock. I began to develop an itch. Not just the kind that lightly tickles your skin for a moment before quickly fading, no, my itch was everlasting. It made my blood boil, it was unbearable. I started to connect my freckles, as an effort to comfort myself, but something was different. Something wasn’t right.

I told my mom that I felt weird, but couldn’t explain what it was that I was feeling. She passed my behavior off as an attempt to skip school. While in class, I began again to connect my freckles, and again, I got an uneasy feeling. I hoped my freckles would be okay until I got more lotion.

My skin began to swell within a few days. It was bright red and very sensitive to the touch. I couldn’t even touch my freckles, which really scared me. It was only then, that I finally caught my mother’s attention.

We went to the doctor, who probed and poked at me performing a general checkup. After about 30 minutes, the doctor said I just have a mild reaction to something. I knew it was because I wasn’t using my special lotion. After all, my skin was so used to it, and this is the longest that I have gone without. I basically ignored the doctor’s instructions on when to apply the anti-itch cream he had prescribed. All I was worried about was my freckles. Not taking away this…


My mother held me down to apply the cream, against my will, but still the pain, and awful itch, won’t go away. It's been three days, and I haven’t been able to touch my freckles in weeks now. This scared me more than anything. It almost seemed as if the cream was making things… worse. I told my mom that I didn’t want to use it anymore, that it hurt my skin, but she forced me, holding me down against my will, telling me it would all be okay. It would all get better. I knew by now things weren’t getting better anytime soon, so I lied to my mom, telling her that I would agree to put it on myself.

I haven’t been using the anti-itch cream for a week and a half now, and my rash has slowly faded. When my mom walked into my room to watch me apply the ointment, what she doesn’t know is that I found another store with my special lotion. I stole a small bottle, and replaced the anti-itch cream with it. My rash has mostly cleared up, and I was both surprised and a little shocked when I noticed that I had almost doubled the freckles. I was ecstatic, more dots.

My mother realized what I have been doing. She found out that I have been stealing. She took the special lotion away as punishment. I’m not allowed outside, because she thinks I’m going to steal more. I told her I needed it, but she didn’t care. My rash has started to come back, but this time, it’s different. This time, instead of all of my skin swelling and getting really red, just my freckles swelled. They now protruded past the surface of my skin, and almost looked like moles. This time, there was no pain, no itching, so I was still able to connect my freckles. Oh how comforting it was to me. It was as if every line I drew connected me to each individual one.

My freckles are growing everyday now, protruding more and more out of my skin as time goes on. My mother has begun to notice, and is afraid to even touch me anymore.

When we went to the doctors again, he was shocked at what he saw. The truth was that he had never seen anything like it. The doctor revealed to my mom, that these weren’t freckles. Instead, they were the tails of parasitic beings that have been attached to my bones for years. He described them as having the head of a great white shark, with the body of a tadpole. They had powerful jaws that are almost impossible to remove. He assumed that they were fully mature, and said removing them would be a risky procedure.

They don’t know.

They don’t understand.

I didn’t want to remove them. I wanted to keep them. I have always known about them. I’ve been willingly hosting them for years. Caring for them, and providing them nutrients with that special lotion. They were always there for me, when everyone else would ignore me. I almost killed them when I ran out of my lotion; almost killed them with the anti-itch cream. I realized that I no longer needed my lotion, after mother took it.

They were already full grown and healthy enough, and would now feed off the bone and muscle throughout my body. Feeling them one by one individually moving throughout my body was somewhat relaxing. I was willing to do anything for them; they have done so much for me. You probably think I’m crazy, but…

I love my freckles.

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