She applied the face cream with a gentle touch and stared back at the woman in the mirror. It would be a long time before a man ever loved that face again. If he ever could. She let out a deep sigh and placed the lid on the container of cream.
At least the fire hadn't destroyed her completely and the child had been okay. The child was what really mattered. He'd been playing in an abandoned building when she got the call on her radio. She'd been the first at the scene and when she'd heard the child screaming for help, she knew she couldn't wait for the firetrucks to arrive.
She'd entered the building without hesitation, without a second thought and found the child huddled in the corner, surrounded by a thick blanket of smoke. She'd seen the orange blaze of the fire nearby, but had never noticed the beam above her until it was too late. By the time the beam had come crashing down she'd glanced up just as the fire seared into her face. But at least she'd gotten the child out and that was all that mattered.
Now as she looked back at the woman in the mirror once more she saw a slight smile and gasped. The scars that had bared its markings across her face were slowly fading before her eyes. The lips that were once a partial hideous scar were beautiful and smooth. It was as if that fire had never touched her face. How could this be she wondered? How?
She touched her face knowing full damn well someone had to be playing a cruel joke on her. This simply was not possible.But just as the woman in the mirror had looked, her face showed no signs of ever being burned by a fire.
What had she done to change her destiny. She hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. She went to the flea market and had purchased the beauty cream from the old lady. She hadn't meant to really, but she needed to get out of the apartment and her love for flea markets seemed like the best thing.
But then when she saw the elderly lady smiling a gentle smile as she walked past her booth she decided to stop. It was strange because she'd walked past every booth but hers, afraid that someone would stare at her or jump back in fear. But the elderly lady had the kindest eyes and seemed sweet, so she'd stopped and browsed at her beauty products.
"You have such a lovely face, dear. Why don't you try this one." The old lady had picked up the jar of beauty cream and offered it to her. "I don't think so. I don't think I need it." She'd said to her. "Nonsense." So she'd purchased the jar just to please the old lady and brought it home.
And it was just then that she realized that she'd never really taken a good look at her purchase. God. For all she knew it could be some form of acid that could eat away her skin. She knocked that silly notion away from her mind and picked up the jar. It read, Miracle Cream. For the Hero Who Saved My Grandchild.