Oh Sanya

*Contains body horror/gore elements

The glass clinked lightly against the table’s edge, slipping for a second from her grasp and towards the creaking floors of the room. Her heart flipped before her body jerked forwards to grasp on tighter, keeping the cup from shattering against the ground. With a hand lingering near her scalp, she placed it back to the table where it belonged. 

“I just don’t understand, if I was in his place I would never dare to go out with another woman.” Her friend, long in the face and sitting slouched over the shared table, hid behind her hands. She’d chosen that dress just to get some attention, maybe to show off her long thin back. The thought made her uncomfortable in her own skin, she could feel something twist imagining herself in the dress.

“- are you listening?” She looked up from where she was examining the curve of the bones protruding out where excess fat no longer was stored. 

“This is really important to me so it’s rude if you’re not listening, Sanya?” Sanya pulled her self together, dropping the resentment that had started to build up as she stared. 

“Yes I’m listening, I was just thinking how fake he is. I wouldn’t drop a beauty like you for a whore either.” Her friend didn’t smile, instead glowering at the screen in her hand.

“She is a whore..” She muttered finally, her face intensely scrutinizing the unsaid messages. Sanya dropped her face away from where she’d been watching for any signs of happiness that would shine out from beneath all the disarray. Watching the cloth cover sway against the mounted fan, she jumped as a pin poked her, just beneath her chin. Clapping her hands over the spot, she could feel a tiny speck of blood welling up. The pin was nowhere to be found. She reached down under her foot where her bag sat flat. Pulling it carefully into her lap she clicked the buckle open. A disarray of pins sat waiting for her. One sat long and thin, sharpened among the sea of dull well used ones. 

“I need to pee.” She stood up suddenly, her chair screeching against the floor, a few heads wandered up to observe. Her friend muttered a word in response, tapping the thin phone against the table top. Sanya patted her feet together, sharp wobbly heels threatening to top her. She clenched her bag tightly to her chest and took a step back away from the table. When there was no response beyond a mumbled, Whodoyouthinkyouare, Sanya took another step and left. 

Her tapping feet led her to the dimly glowing toilet sign. It hung overtop a corroding door, painted a darkened shade of olive green. The gold paint hiding a blackened interior crumbled off into her hand as she twisted it to let herself in. Inside sat a singular stall, its door barely concealing the top of the toilet and hanging open deserted. Shutting the olive green door, Sanya hesitated before clicking the lock, twisting it locked and then unlocked finally. If a mirror was anything, this one was unkind to the illusion of beauty; Sanyas image was distorted and a chunk of the glass had cracked away to reveal an ill ended attempt of gluing heavy glass to solid- 

Sure enough, she examined closer in the mirror, hands reaching upwards towards her face where the mirror didn’t profess unkind lies but hard truth. It hadn’t been her own imagination, she’d had a pin come undone. Stepping closer to the mirror and sink that housed her bag full of preparation, Sanya opened it with haste. Being careful to avoid being pricked again, she swished her finger around the glimmering sea of silver. Tones of brassened and polished needle, clips tied to pins, rounded and colorful tips of any shade. Her fingers stroked the long figure of one that had caught her eye, it’s body thin and sleek. It’s tip had been broken, however, nothing to stop it from slipping slyly through the tissue and falling out again. It called to her though, it wanted to be used tonight, it would do the best job. 

Sanya clipped her bag back tight, it’s little golden clasp holding the sagging heavy purse into a tight, refined item. Then, she grasped her chin where a swell of blood had formed a little bead. It was perfect, seemed to be the kind of tip that would suit her needle. Her needle that threaded silently between her fingers, threatening to poke with one wrong swivel. 

Sanya's face was rounded at her chin, it’s skin folding slightly towards the jaw as if wanting to protect from harm. She observed her forehead, a tight shining structure, cheekbones tightly pinned to her hairline. Carefully testing first, her fingers worked to connect the skin at the chin, muttering into the needle that sat between her teeth. She groped until she found the form she liked and stepped back from the mirror to assess. Good. Good enough for the rest of the night before she could return home and shed herself of the prickling and poking. 

Sanya took her skin and held it in one hand, the other releasing to free her teeth from the job of clamping so tightly to hold the pin in place. She watched herself in the greasy mirror, it’s reflection showing her the hanging stall door, a feeling of unease as she wondered the possibility of someone being hiding behind it. Watching as she pressed the pin to her neck and pushed it through her sagging flesh. A crinkle of blood begged to run down her collar, a second joining it as she twisted the pin around and through once more. Securely holding her face into the shape she desired. Patting the pinned skin back into shape, a little moulding forming a figure she could be proud of. 

Sanya carefully pulled her bag from the sinks body and kicked away a cobweb that took up the space where it could be placed down. She then yanked three paper towels from the dispenser, dabbed them in the faucet water. The water was cold and refreshing against her neck where the blood was quickly staining. There was a chemical scent to the liquid, however, holding her arm and refusing to let her back into the illusion that the water she used was clean. Staring at her face in the mirror again, Sanya smiled once, straining to force the newly pinned tissue to stretch just a little. She scrunched her face as tightly as she dared before opening her eyes, a pin had come undone just near her hairline. With a groan, the pin was tightened back into muscle. 

“Sanya?” Sanya jumped and stumbled back in her heels, catching in the drain of the floor. There she tumbled down, just nearly catching herself on the hanging door. It swung backwards, Sanya holding tightly, inviting the two of them into it’s quarters. POP. Eyes widening, Sanya jerked herself away from the stall and stumbled towards the mirror and sink again. There wasn’t any pin undone on her face? With a gray face, she shrugged her thick coat from her shoulders and turned with a grimace to observe. Her back. 

“Sanya. There’s been a development, I have to show you something.” Sanya stood, tears welling up in her eyes, they threatened to trail down her cheeks to the red itch of neck that had come from harshly scrubbing. 

“Sanya! This is rude, open the door I don’t care if you’re naked or something.” A shadow under the olive green door had a familiar red tint from the shoes she’d loaned for tonights wear. Sanya clasped her hands over her face and breathed in a ragged breath, glancing around the tiny room. Her gaze fell on her old bag laying in wait under her friendly sink. 

“One second! Just let me unlock the door…” She cast her eyes from the door to the stall and the door to the stall. The door stood tauntingly in reach, just a few steps, but far enough she wouldn’t make it to the stall that had invited her in previously. 

The door swung open harshly, slamming against the tough wall of the bathroom, it’s handle’s sheddings sprinkling more to the floor as it swung closed again. 

“Oh would you look at that, the door is open and I am in.” Sanya panted against the hard security of the stalls door. She’d managed to jerk it shut before her friend had had time to observe the likeness of the situation. She watched through the cracks of the stall as her friend paused in the doorway, eventually stepping more fully in, allowing the door to close behind her. 

“Are you like, okay?” Sanya pushed her trembling fingers through her hair carefully and patted her chest twice to calm her racing heart. Swallowing, she croaked out, 

“Yeah. Yes I just- you caught me off guard..” Her friend sniffed and then huffed as she leaned against the sink, her eyes watching Sanya’s feet from the gap of the door. 

“Were you like actually naked?” Thinking quickly, Sanya unbuckled her bag once more and swished her fingers back through that collection of beauty. There were plenty of small thin pins, suited to pull back her face or keep her arms tight. None big enough to hold the weight of her waist to her back. 

“Yeah, just fishing my thong back out where it belonged.” She pushed pin aside carefully to try the bottom of the bag. 

“HA. That’s funny. Anyways, guess who finally messaged me back? I confronted him about his second date.” 

“No way…” Sanya's voice trailed off as she stood with a pounding heart, beating against her tightly wound skin, the waist of her body sagging towards her hips with nothing to keep it in shape. She desperately grasped the skin and pulled it tightly against her spine, bone poking from between meshed muscle and tense veins. She gasped as her wrist was pricked by the stray point of a heavy needle holding her lower back up tight while she strained to keep her body together. 

“I knowww. He was acting like he didn’t know her. But I didn’t let him be stupid this time, if you’re going to accept the invitation for a date it’d better have been my invitation only.” Sanya stopped carefully pulling her waist back in as a sound of disgust came from outside the stall. 

“Ew girl there’s like blood on this floor. Huh, I hope you didn’t drop your thong in that.” Sanya gave a weak laugh and reached her spare hand back into her bag. A tiny pin pressing its way into her palm, she squeaked and ripped her hand from the sea of needles. 

“What? Do you think I shouldn’t have said that, it’s not that mean if its out of self defense? I’ll take it back when we get together- unless it’s true…” 

“No-” Sanya shook her hand furiously to try and loosen the pin from her flesh, muscle tightening around the intruder, 

“I just really don’t like blood.” Her friend sniffed and as Sanya glanced between the stalls gaps, she hopped from the sink and turned towards the mirror. She fluffed her hair with her pointing fingers and placed a delicate wrist onto the jut of her hipbone. Sanya could see it then. The framework that made up her body, a hipbone connecting to her spine where her ribs pressed out and flared up to the knot of her neck. The backless dress did enough to give the viewer exactly what you could expect when it finally was disposed for the night. Her skin pinched naturally together without help of any sly needles. 

“Mm, yeah we should go. Are you almost done in there? I want to see if I can guilt a night out of this guy for once.” Sanya dug her pam into her mouth and grimaced, pulling tough against the bead that held it from diving fully into her hand. With a snap, the bead was freed into her mouth, the pin stuck firm. Groaning, she panted, scanning the floor she could see from under the stall door. The needle was lost to her on the floor of a dirty chain restroom. 

“Okay, I’m coming.” Desperately, Sanya stamped her foot to the floor and plunged her wrist into the open bag. Pins scraped and poked, nestling themselves comfortably into her flesh and winding between tendons. She groaned again and pulled her hand out, a needle slid beneath the bed of her nail, waving at her from the red stain that welled up around it. It would do for now. 

“I also want to know why he’s being so weird, we were fine two nights ago when we had dinner? I bet it’s that date.” The small needle pushed through her back, muscle twitching as cold metal brushed past it and into more of Sanya’s body. The needles within her wrist straining as she twisted and pushed. She could feel the tension of her body’s weight warning that one pin wouldn’t be enough. 

A knock against the stall and her friend poked her face under, 

“Are. You. Done. We need to go on our walk past his apartment, I don’t want to pass when he’s sleeping and I can’t see anything.” 

Sanya pulled her coat tighter around her body, one free hand gripping her purse, the other tucked within the drooping sleeves, fur sticking to her hand as it turned adhesive. She pushed the stall door open gingerly and wobbled from the stall. 

“Wait are you actually okay?” Her friend took a look up from her screen and scanned up and down Sanya’s face. Sanya nodded feverishly and gestured for her to take the lead. She stepped from the bathroom with legs shivering. A thick trickle of blood could be felt trailing down them, threatening to pass beyond the long coat and to the visibility of others. 

The flood of the shop washed over Sanya as she made her way to the table, palm spasming as the little pins and needles stuck tight. Her friend led the way to the counter where a tall man sat behind the register. 

“Seperate tabs.” She said, reaching into her small bag for an amount of payment. Sanya stared determinedly at the posters behind the registers head, a smiling woman with long shaped legs stared back at her. Her smile becoming wider and wider with every second the two girls lingered at the register. She could tell, the woman, that Sanya was a fake. Her eyes lingering along her hairline where pins sat snug, to her waist where the pinch came from a hastily thought out attempt to maintain her body as she wanted it. This woman didn’t have to work for it, her toned figure void of shimmering pins holding back pounds of food eaten in secrecy and then desperately sucked in as the night grew and the clothes shrank. The woman’s face was one of glorified power, she was the one who wouldn’t have to stand next to another and wish for the blessings God intended them to have and not her. 

“Do you have your card on you?” Sanya snapped her eyes from the haughty posted woman and looked dumbly at her friend,

“I don’t really want to get my card out again, but you can pay me back later?” 

“No! No I’ve got it here in my bag, ” Sanya blurted out, jerking forwards. 

Her tense heels stumbled and she fell forwards onto the counter where the register sat back a little bit. POP. 

“Oh that sounded like it hurt. We actually need to be hurrying though.” Sanya grasped her friends hand and allowed herself to be pulled back onto her heels. Patting on her person, Sanya looked concernedly around the counter before finding her bag on the floor where she had dropped it in her tumble. 

“Dropped my bag.” She mumbled again and bent over, feeling her spine expose itself through the opening in her pinless skin. Her stomach pressed against the clasped coat. She grasped it POP. POP. Sanya’s eyes bulged against their lids as the tightly pulled skin stretched against their containers, the needles that scraped along bone. POP. Placing a hand against her head, Sanya swayed in her bent position, clutching bag in hand and feeling as more of her needles from her tendons and wrists found their way into her forehead. 

“You’re not like about to throw up are you? A needle rolled to a stop by her feet, it’s body shimmering in a glistening red coat of color. 

“No,” Sanya gritted her teeth and jerked her body up, POP POP POP. 

“I’ve got my wallet here-” With a groan and crafty call, the weight overwhelmed the slyness of Sanya’s diversions. Needles popped from along her spine to her calves. POP POP. Her stomach bulged open as the needles freed themselves, falling to the grounds, skin stretching and tearing from their captors. POP. The skin so tightly pulled against her scalp ripped away, pins popping to the floor, muscle of the face becoming exposed. POP POP POP POP POP. Slippery inside workings tumbled to the floor, gushing the last meal out, a heart tumbling after them without anything to detain it to it’s cage. 

As the last POP sounded, a framework of the body stood wobbling on heels. It’s muscles tensed, organs pulsing on the dirty ground, hair and eyes twitching. It stood for less than a heartbeat before following it’s outside in a crumpled pile of human necessity and desperation. The heavy bag collapsing just near, it’s clasp bursting open to release the thousands of shimmering tools that swam and scattered across the shops old layout. The scream of a friend echoing over the still warm pile. 

 Oh Sanya.