I was in bed thumbing through my engagement photos when my fiancé walked in the room looking like a monster from outer space. She had a plastic shopping bag tied around her hair, golden rubber pads beneath her eyes, and enough acne patches hanging off her cheeks to make her look like a Hannibal Lector victim. Underneath all the beauty products, was my beautiful Holly.
I never knew how much she spent on all her beauty products, but I did know if we ever got into a dire financial situation, she would choose clear skin and soft healthy hair over electricity and food. We had been together for five years and a day had never passed when I wasn’t completely stunned by her beauty. I just wish what she saw in the mirror was what I saw when looking at her perfection.
Holly wasn’t unique in her case; she was another beautiful woman who had fallen victim to the impossible beauty standard social media and the covers of magazines portrayed. She was helpless prey to the Big Cosmetic bad guys spending millions in marketing dollars just to climb their way through Holly’s phone and tell her she’ll never be beautiful enough without their products and a personal Photoshop editor. Although I thought she was perfect, through and through, if her beauty products and ‘enhancement creams’ were what it took to make her feel like a confident, unstoppable woman, I supported it.
Holly climbed into bed and laid next to me, resting her head on my shoulder to look at the photos. Ever since we had the photos taken, we spent a few minutes each night looking through them, laughing and dreaming about the big day. The photos were gorgeous. We lucked out on the day they were taken having experienced a mixture of sunny and overcast skies leaving us with vibrant memories we could look back on and show our children and for them, their children.
Although the photos were gorgeous, they weren’t perfect. Out of the hundreds we took, she only smiled with her teeth in one of them and that was only because, in my juvenile thinking, I farted right before the photographer snapped the picture. Holly burst out into laughter, spitting all over my face, and the camera man had to take a knee to wipe off his tears from the gag (no pun intended).
As we flipped through the photos, we finally came to my favorite. The one with her full, uncovered smile. Next to me, I could see her run her tongue back and forth across her teeth. She hated her teeth, and it was a sore subject for her. Ever since I met her, she only smiled with her lips, too afraid to show the world her true beauty. Holly was so funny, kind, selfless, and had more reasons to smile than most, but somewhere in her mind was a jail cell holding her confidence hostage. I had tried so many time to break her out of that cell, but each attempt was met with steel reinforcements.
Holly’s teeth weren’t perfect, but far from repulsive. Sure, they weren’t the straightest since her parents never had the money for braces, but it wasn’t the alignment of her teeth that bothered her as much as it was the color. Holly had Amelogenesis Imperfecta which is a condition that causes soft, fragile enamel on the teeth which leads to discoloration. It had always been the Achilles Heel to her confidence. She had tried every white strip, UV light gel, and toothpaste she could get her hands on and none of it ever worked. It was hard seeing such a beautiful person with a large soul weakened by one small trait.
Behind the scenes, I had been saving money to get Holly veneers so she could spread her laughter and joy throughout the world with every ounce of her confidence, unashamed to brighten the darkness around her with a bright smile. The plan was to have the procedure before the wedding, but the state of the world and crippling inflation made that dream impossible. I wanted so badly for her to feel confident in smiling at me as we stood across from one another, holding hands in front of those we love most in life, exchanging our vows, and looking in the eyes of the person we’d live the rest of our lives with.
Lately, I’ve been seeing ads all over the internet and social media for some purple toothpaste that’s supposed to turn your teeth white. In all of the videos, I’m sure you’ve seen them, they rub the product on corn and other various yellow objects, give it a wipe, then boom—white. It was either a genius marketing ploy to take advantage of the self-conscious or it truly worked. For around $30, it was worth experimenting. When Holly went to bed, I placed the order.
The package was at the house and waiting for me about a week later after I had gotten home from work. I took it out of the box and placed it neatly on the bathroom sink for Holly to find when she got home. I wanted it to mean everything to her that she would have a smile as white as her wedding dress, a smile she would proudly show to everyone around her.
When she got home we did the usual things, catch up on up each other’s days, debate for way too long about we wanted for dinner before actually cooking it. I kept it cool and didn’t tell her about the toothpaste, allowing myself to let her find it so she could catch a surprise. I became restless with anticipation wondering if it would actually work.
After dinner, we headed upstairs where she would inevitably begin her multi-step skin and hair care routine. I plopped in bed exhausted from the day and she changed into her oversized house rags and made her way to the bathroom. Seconds later, she came back into the bedroom holding the toothpaste, smiling with her lips and asked, “What is this?”
“So, I’ve been seeing these ads all over the internet,” I said, lunging up in bed, excited to tell her all about it. “It’s this purple toothpaste that’s supposed to color correct your teeth and make them look white as hell. Figured I’d buy it so you can try it.”
Holly flipped the box in her hands reading the back and looking at the impressive before and after pictures. Her smile grew bigger, “Do you really think it works?” Holly asked, holding the box tightly to her chest with her shoulders perked up to making her neck disappear.
“I sure hope so. Babe, I want you to feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet when we say our ‘I do’s’ because that’s exactly what you are to me.”
Holly jumped on top of me and launched an assault of kisses all over my face. If the toothpaste worked, I fully expected her to suck my face clean off. She got up and went back to the bathroom to start her routine.
I laid there in bed, hands behind my head staring at the ceiling. Holly was going to be at least twenty minutes after applying all her serums and salves. I closed my eyes trying to rid my head of the thoughts from the day and create a clear channel for bed. Behind my eyelids, I saw Holly walking up the aisle on our big day, smiling at me showing her true happiness. The image became more vivid as I drifted off into sleep.
A loud clatter from the bathroom abducted me from my sleep, making me gasp for air.
“Babe!” Holly screamed at me.
I lunged out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Everything was on the floor.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked.
Holly was stomping around, squirming in her own skin, bracing the bathroom sink. “I can’t get it off my teeth! It burns!”
I opened her mouth and looked inside. It looked like the purple goop was crawling across her teeth and up into her gums. I wiped off some of the paste with my thumb and looked at it. It was moving on its own and crawling its way down my thumb. I violently shook my hand trying to get it off and grabbed the a towel to remove the excess.
Holly was crying and yelling mumbled words screaming that she couldn’t spit it out. The paste was defying gravity, climbing its way from her bottom teeth to her top. It appeared to be alive. I could see the purple sludge working its way down her tongue. She began to gag. Holly grabbed my shoulders, and I grabbed her face. She shook violently like she was trying to get away from something buried deep inside her. I began to sweat, not knowing what to do, so much blood rushing to my head it made my vision red.
Every time Holly moved her mouth, the purple toothpaste took up more space. Her breathing became heavy, slipping through the small openings within the thick purple webbing aggressively growing in her mouth. In a panic, she ripped the towel rod out of the wall and began to spin around pulling at her hair and clutching her throat. Holly slapped at the walls in desperation. She was beginning to turn blue. Her heavy breathing turned into a faint whistle through the one small hole left on the growing tangled mass now protruding through her lips.
Through Holly’s dreadful dance of despair and hopelessness I watched in with agonizing horror. I began crying hysterically, grabbing at her shoulders and face in an attempt at doing something—anything—I honestly had no idea what the hell I was doing. I suppose my body was reacting the only way it knew how when overridden by fear.
Holly’s face turned from blue into a deep purple, her eyes redder than I could ever imagine. This cords of sludge started sprouting for her nose. The dark purple skin on her face highlighted by the red glow of bursting capillaries is a shade of color I wish to never see again, a shade only found in the cold, impartial hands of death. Holly dropped to her knees; her eyes intensely locked onto mine—locked into mine. She slid her fingers through my hair grabbing at whatever she could for support, grabbing tightly onto life of some kind.
She violently rocked back and forth, never breaking her stare. Her chest moved up and down in such a way that something was trying to get out although I know it was only air trying to get in. The purple sludge came slowly rolling out of her nose. She lunged at me, grabbing my head tight in what was going to be our last hug, our last loving embrace. She tried to squeeze the help out of me, but there was none to be found. In my ear, I heard the faint whistle from her breathing silence itself.
I pulled away, her face maroon, and stared into her eyes one last time. The tension in her body slowly gave as she laid on the floor in her brave moment of acceptance. We met eyes once more. She was still with me. Her body laid still except for an involuntary jerk every four seconds from the muscles in her chest unsuccessfully trying to find one more breath of oxygen.
I watched with deep regret as the small pupils in her eyes grew until she was no longer looking at me, but through me. I buried my head deep into her chest and soaked her shirt with my tears for I don’t know how long. She was gone.
Purple Whitening Toothpaste: 1/5 Starts