I step back, and a shudder goes through my whole body. I tear my eyes away from Craig, looking down at the floor. "Jon? I'm sorry...I was just wondering....I mean...." Craig stutters and tries to speak. He sighs deeply, then looks back up at me. "Jon, I didn't mean to push. I only wanted to know. I'm sorry if I-" I look up at him and catch his eye. He stops mid-sentence, and I turn back to him. "Craig, it's okay. I.....I just don't really talk about it that much. Not many people really ask about it, either out of fear or just not caring. But, I don't mind telling you about it. You're a good friend, and I know that I can tell you." Craig nods, and sits down on his bed. I lean against the wall, and slide down to sit on the floor. I lean my head back on the wall, and I close my eyes. My chest rises and falls from the deep breath I take, and then I tilt my head to look at Craig. He sits with his hands between his knees, ready to listen intently. "I've always been self-conscious. I never felt like I was handsome or pretty or beautiful in any way. I was beat up as a kid on a daily basis, by both the kids at school and my father. I never could escape the hatred. At school I was the freak, and I was punished for it. At home, I was the disappointment, and I was punished even more. As I grew up, I always thought that the reason everyone hated me was because I was ugly, hideous, disgusting. Unwanted." I sigh and look down at my feet. A tear runs down my cheek. "So I learned to cover it up. I thought that if I hid my face I wouldn't be seen by everyone, and they wouldn't treat me as bad. But wearing my mask did the exact opposite. The kids at school beat me up more than ever, calling me a psycho freak, and they would steal my mask. I would shield my face, and try to get it back, but they would hold it above my head, taking advantage of how short I was. They continued this behaviour throughout high school. I would come home bruised and bloody, and all I wanted was to just disappear, but the pain continued." I look back at Craig, and his eyes are wide. I sigh and continue on. "My dad beat me, with both his fists and anything else he could find. Sometimes he even used knives." I stand up and unzip the jumpsuit to the waist. I lift up my shirt to reveal the numerous scars covering my torso. Craig gasps, and stands up. He walks over to me, and traces one of my scars with his fingers. He looks up at me with wide eyes. His beautiful, big, brown eyes. "These are only some of the scars I hide. Only some of the pain." I say. I take his hand, and move it away, and pull my shirt down. I zip the jumpsuit back up, and turn away from Craig. I bite my lip and sigh, then I turn back to face him. "Craig, my whole life I have felt the need to hide who I am. But....when I'm with you.....when I met you, when I first looked into your eyes..........I felt that you would understand. I feel I don't need to hide anymore. But I'm still scared." I sit down on the floor again. I feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and I can't hold it back anymore. I put my head in my hands as the tears stream down my face. My shoulders shake as I cry, and then I feel an arm around my shoulders and a hand on top of mine. I raise my head a little, tears still flowing from my eyes. I look into Craig's beautiful brown eyes, and he smiles. Sniffling, I raise my head up so that my eyes are at the same level as Craig's. He squeezes my shoulder, and says softly, "Jon, you don't have to be scared. You don't have to hide. I don't want you to hide. I want you to be you. And you don't have to be scared, because I will always be there for you." I stare at him, and then I wrap my arms around him, pressing my head against his shoulder. He holds me tightly, and he whispers, "It's okay, Jon. You'll always have me." I let him go, and sit back. I lean back against the wall, and close my eyes. I sigh. I look over to Craig, and his warm, accepting smile is comforting. I sit up, facing him. I meet his eyes, and then I move my hand up to my mask. I close my eyes, then open them again, sure of myself. I slowly lift my mask off my face, and, setting it down gently on the floor beside me, raise my head up to look at Craig. He stares at me, and smiles. "Jon, you are a handsome mother fucker." he says with a smirk. I smile slightly, and as I look at Craig, I smile wider. I don't have to hide my face anymore, and I don't have to cover my scars. I have Craig now. He makes me feel happy, and he makes me feel safe. For the first time in my life, I don't have to be scared. For the first time in my life, I can live without the mask.