Treacher Collins Syndrome.
In short it's the ugly disease. It made the misaligned outer corners of one's eyes droop down like the leaves of a palm tree. It made one's smile lopsided and more crooked than a witch's nose. It made one's ears look puckered up like flower buds. It made one's skin sag and look like melting candle candle wax. It made one look ugly.
How do I know so much about this rare disease?
Well let's say when God had to choose somebody to give this disease to it wasn't my lucky day. I don't know what my mother's reaction was to my malformed face because she's long gone, died before I could even know her, but my father is a workaholic who spends half his salary for anything that would make his son look better, anything that would make him normal.
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I looked up at the ceiling blankly, it had once been a crisp white but had faded to a sickly pale yellow. It had been a week since I had gone through plastic surgery. My face felt fake and heavy and I didn't think I would ever get used to it. I heard the door creak open, someone slipped in. I paid no attention and kept staring at the roof thinking it was a nurse. After a full two minutes of silence I looked down for my eyes to be met with a girl who looked no older than twelve. She smiled timidly. With one hand she held something behind her back and her free hand waved to me.
"Hi, I'm Lily Ming. A thirteen year old cancer patient. I live in the room next to yours." Her voice was youthful and musical, but the most puzzling thing was her voice sounded genuinely happy. She rubbed her arm awkwardly.
I pulled myself into a crossed legged