I woke up groggily to get ready for work, heading to the bathroom to reluctantly wash up, still half asleep. As I walked in, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and was perplexed. I’m not particularly prone to acne, a few spots every now and then, but my skin was typically clear- more or less. However, at that moment there was something quite apparent staring back at me in the mirror. A striking red pustule peaking out from underneath my nose, nearly the size of a penny. Far more awake now, I immediately started finicking with it- as one does when an obnoxious blemish appears unwelcome on your face. It was firm to the touch, but certainly had something occurring within, which I was confident I could extract. I acquired some tools from around the house and returned with a mission to get this repugnant nuisance off of me. After about 20 minutes of pressing and pushing and poking and scraping- all I had succeeded in doing was severely inflaming the blemish and irritating the surrounding skin. I was not going to be bested by this disgusting little visitor. Infuriated and fed up, I decided on a more drastic measure. Grabbing a small pair of scissors, I promptly raised them to the blemish and- SNIP. The pustule fell into the sink with a satisfying squash. The bleeding was somewhat severe, but I quickly patched myself up with what I had on hand- being sure to disinfect the wound. Afterwards, I was feeling pretty good about my makeshift surgery, and was certain that this issue was resolved.
I woke up the next day with a revolting surprise. The blemish was back. Not only was it back, it had grown nearly three times its size, and it was now presenting a purplish hue and a foul odor. I considered seeing a doctor, but money was tight, so what’s the worst thing that could happen if I just tried again?
Different tactic this time. I read online that a kind of burning or freezing could help prevent remerging warts of some nature. I thought to myself, perhaps that’s what this is- just a wart, just a pesky, nasty wart returning with a vengeance each time it was dismissed. Disgusted, I decided this burning scenario would be the key to ensuring the blemish was properly dealt with.
I heated a wider knife over my stove until it turned red hot, and returned to the bathroom, confident that I could end this monstrous lump for good. Glaring into the mirror at the creature that had taken ownership of my once smooth face- I was ready to get to work. Just as I’d done before, I snipped the blemish off in one single motion, and quickly pressed the hot metal to the wound. I nearly blacked out from the pain, screaming in complete and utter agony as my flesh sizzled and popped. Dizzy and unstable, I quickly tore the metal away to see a crisp, dewy burn bubbling up from where the blemish once was. There wasn’t enough time to clean it properly before I fell completely unconscious, but I knew this would all be worth it if the blemish would be extinguished once and for all.
The next morning, I weakly pulled myself to the bathroom and was met with complete horror and utter disappointment. Not only had the blemish returned, it had brought critical backup. My entire face was a landscape of wet, dripping, BURNING eruptions. My eyes were practically swollen shut, I could hardly open my mouth, and the pain was truly unimaginable. With my face torn and peeling, a colorful mixture of red, purple, and yellow, I was entirely unrecognizable. Observing large areas of my skin falling off in chunks, coupled with the brutal stench of dried blood and crusted pus, I knew it needed to be fixed. It needed to be undone.
I only had one thought in my mind at that point, you have to get it all off for GOOD. No chance of resurgence, no sign of life. I went back to the kitchen and retrieved my sharpest knife, ensuring that it was sterilized of course. Afterwards I quickly put a pot of oil on the stove- this would have to work, I won’t need a plan B. Once the oil was bubbling and boiling, I returned to the bathroom for the final time.
A bit extreme some might say, but I knew it would work, and it did. Now there’s nothing left, a complete and utter success. At long last, the blemishes have been successfully exterminated. Of course, there were a few casualties. Mainly my skin, my nose, my eyes, my lips- all of it. All of it’s gone.
Apparently the doctors had never seen anything like it- with whispers from nurses around the hospital, who would do something like that to their own face?
It doesn’t matter, the blemish is gone for good. I feel better now.