The chrysanthemum bomb exploded in to millions of red and orange petals in the sky. The present year was history and the sun of the new one was a few hours in the future.
Bee was alone amongst the crowd of revelers. Her family had dragged her here. Nowadays she did not like to go out or meet new people. She avoided even her old friends and just wanted to be left alone.
The whorl of reds in the sky reminded her of her face reflected in the mirror. A year ago, Bee was a happy kid when the first of the reds appeared on her left cheek; soon it was a nightmare – they multiplied covering her face, neck and back with red cystic boils.
Sue her childhood friend also got it and blamed her for them. Her school mates nicknamed her ‘Pock Bee’. Bullied mercilessly, she stopped going to school.
The doctor was almost dismissive, ‘wash your face frequently and do not use cosmetics ….. it is a part of growing up.’
Happy New Year, Bee – she thought.
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Thanks Al for the lovely prompt.