She was 16-17 when she became really "the prettiest thing in the world", you know that type of girls. She was beautiful but a little shy, not in a weird sense, but with a bit of loneliness in her eyes. She was a poet almost in secret, she was oversensitive, very intelligent. Even more, she had a tiny little wart in her face, what made her even more beautiful, like Crawford but a much more sensitive way. And it definitely made the boys fall in love. She had boyfriends, she was talkative and sometimes extroverted etc., but nobody really understood her (and nobody could tell, if she was an angel or a silent devil). – I sympathized with her in a deep way, because she had the same psychological symptoms that me. I met her and from all of a sudden we felt we were twins. But i really didn't know what bothers her "in her deepest soul", maybe a childhood accident or something, i wondered.
Then came the weird memory. I had already known this girl from a distance when she hadn't burst into flower. Well, the only thing i remembered, was her wart. That was way before he became a hottie, and i had to admit that she's pretty, but as i remembered, her wart was.. well, like that english word, "wart", it's annoying, disgusting, sounds like a dutch nightingale. I was horrified when i remembered that i hated her for that, well, i didn't even saw her, just her wart. Her wart ruled her face in my eyes, and i hated her for even have to look at her. She was annoying, and i thought she deserved to be reserved. When my friends told me she is an undiscovered angel, i honestly surprised and mocked her.
I was really shocked. Weird memory. But i could wonder then how much pain, embarrassment, self-hate had came from that little wart. Later, when with couple of friends we were at a public place, we asked a little kid, if he thought that this girl is beautiful. He surprised us: "I don't like her because of that thing on her face". We laughed out loud, but i saw the girl's beautiful face turn beet red. But she sighed and managed to laugh, so even her boyfriend didn't recognize her pain. Well, i think now that she managed to hide it from herself too. No matter that her boyfriends all cossets her "wart" (really don't like this word), and they like it so much they would kiss it off – and no matter that these kisses perhaps convinced even herself that it's not that bad; the memories burned in her body and mind so so deep that she's terrified when she have to face with, well: with herself, because for so many years, she had probably identified herself with her wart.
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