This experience has been written much like a novel, and therefore is written in third person. This story may include content involving potentially dangerous sharp objects, scenes of violence, blood, vulgar language,
At A Glance Author Jay Lee Contact entheatus@gmail.com IAM enthean When A month ago Artist Myself Location Vancouver, BC and demonic possession. Actions taken in this story – especially those that involve self-modification – are potentially life-threatening and are NOT, in part or whole, encouraged by the author to the general public. Reader discretion is advised.
A curl of aromatic steam arose from the earthenware mug that lay forgotten.
The owner of the neglected oolong sat with her fingers flying over the keyboard of her computer, with her dark brown eyes – already made small by her Chinese heritage – squinting at the screen. At 16, she was the very image of the Asian stereotype – her hair was a black, silken mane, cut and styled only by a Japanese hairstylist. Her school uniform lay perfectly about a lean, petite frame. And if one looked closely they might catch a glimpse of her legs, conditioned by hours of Dance Dance Revolution.
But there was one thing about this picture that foiled this "ideal" Asian image: the website on the screen.
An array of various body parts lay across the monitor, the otherwise smooth skin perforated by steel needles or any one of a vast assortment of shining jewellery. It was at this display that the girl gazed with an almost hungry lustre in her eyes that would have horrified her traditional Chinese parents. Its name was Body Modification Ezine, or BME. And it was glorious.
A modification virgin yet, with only one earlobe pierced via gun at the age of 7, the girl's searching eye was caught by a picture of an unusual ear. The lobe was plain, with but one lone captive bead ring. However, the ear's upper cartilage was adorned with what looked like three great steel spears bisecting the rim, resembling a liberty-spiked Mohawk. It was at this moment in which the girl's heart and thoughts were truly captivated...
Two Years Later
With shaking hands, Jay closed her eyes tightly and massaged her temples in vain.
The 16-year-old schoolgirl had matured into a young woman in her final year of high school, and much had changed. Her uniform sweater was now black instead of red, signifying her status as a graduating student at her school, and her hair – shaved to the scalp many months back – was now a short dark shock she now ran her fingers through in frustration. Deep breaths through her nose whistled past the 0-gauge metal tunnel nestled in her septum, and light from the almost-summer sun shone dully on black 4-gauge plugs in her lobes. Other such adornments, and small scars from those long past, decorated the slim body that had blossomed into more womanly curves in the last two years.
The uppermost parts of her ears, however, still lay naked against her hair.
"I can't do this anymore!" Jay groaned, throwing aside the calculus textbook that vexed her. She sat up on the carpeted floor of her room and stared, with mingled sadness and anger, at the nook in her closet where a beloved medical tray – with its sterilised needles, steel clamps, various pieces of jewellery, and other such equipment – had once rested.
Jay, long ago, had gone through no small amount of depression. When her mother turned a blind eye to the cries for help, Jay turned to putting deep cuts in her arms and hands to try and find some relief from the plethora of dark emotions that she felt. However, when she discovered the world of body modification at 16, piercing – and soon, self-piercing – became a positive form of self-expression for her. Needles, prayers and jewellery had replaced the razors, and subsequently, self-respect and confidence replaced her self-doubt and hopelessness. Truly, self-modification and faith had allowed her to heal and become a better person for it. However, months ago, after a bout of experimental do-it-yourself piercing with a group of friends, her mother had discovered the tray and had thrown out all its equipment. Now, all that was left was a few used and bloody needles in a small sharps container hidden in the back of the washroom.
Jay ran a shaking hand through her hair once more. "I need to pierce something," She breathed, pausing to consider. She had no more proper equipment, and the only jewellery she had left was a mismatched collection of captive rings missing their beads, a few too-short labret studs, and some old curved barbells from a rejected navel project. She was certainly not going to try piercing with a sewing needle, and she had no more of the proper-gauge, hollow piercing needles she had once used. Unless...
"No way," Jay said aloud, with a mental shake to bring herself back to her senses. "I am not going to use a used needle. I am not. That is stupid, and I know it."
She then looked to the abandoned calculus textbook, then to the pile of papers and binders that loomed before her, with all that she had to complete before the night was over. She looked at the clock – 12:24 a.m. Her head felt like it was in a vice grip. She felt simply overwhelmed by stress.
Shit. She thought, and left for the washroom.* * * * *
An hour later, Jay lay on her bedroom floor once more, her tired eyes skimming over her class notes on the human reproductive system. Her mind, however, was busied with other activity – namely going over what she had done in the past hour.
She had gone to the washroom and dug into the deep crevasses of the cabinets, past the rolls of toilet paper and various hair products that masked the lonely sharps container hidden within. Grasping it with unsteady hands, the dazed girl felt as though she was outside of her body, in shock and awe watching herself perform. Opening the lid of the container, she upended it, shaking gently until a few of the needles fell out. Some of the needles were encrusted with her own blood, while others glinted. To Jay, however, it was like seeing old friends.
Deftly grabbing a non-bloody needle, she ran scalding water in the sink and used it to rinse and wash the needle with antibacterial Dial soap. A hydrogen peroxide bath awaited it. Then the needle wash again washed with the soap. Things continued in this vein for ten minutes before Jay transferred the needle to a cup of thinned bleach solution.
And this is where it had sat for the last hour. Jay's eyes flicked once more to the clock – 1:30 a.m. Quietly putting aside her notes, she seized the cup and headed once more to the washroom, tripping slightly and spilling three drops of her precious bleach on the carpet outside the washroom. She poured out the bleach before, once more, taking up her antibacterial soap and hydrogen peroxide, to rid the needle of any bleach that remained. Once this was done she brought the needle back to her room, where a small metal pot of distilled water on a hotplate awaited it. Once it was in the pot, Jay turned the hotplate on to its highest setting, and bounded to her little collection of jewellery.
A thoughtful finger touched her lips, and an eyebrow cocked, and after a short moment of deliberation she picked out a small 14-gauge labret stud. Into the pot it went with the needle, and there it remained, for the next hour, hidden by the swirling froth of the boiling water.
In the meantime, the girl delved into her art supplies until she recovered a small set of artist's ink pens. With a smart flick of the wrist the pen with the finest tip was poised between her fingers, while the rest of the set was thrown unceremoniously onto the floor. She stood in front of her mirror. Somewhere between the beginning of this twisted adventure and now, the image of the liberty-spiked ear had unconsciously returned to her mind. There was now no decision to be made within her mind. Gently grasping the upper part of her left ear, Jay tentatively drew a line where she wished for the piercing to be angled. It went straight out at the place where the tip of an elf's ear might be. Dissatisfied with not having gotten the line perfect, she wiped it off and redid it. Again. And again.
A long while later the girl found herself back in the washroom, finally satisfied with the marking she had drawn. She silently swabbed where she intended the entry and exit points of the needle to be with hydrogen peroxide. On returning to her room she found the pot on the hotplate nearly empty – by this time the water had boiled itself out. After turning off the hotplate she tipped the needle and jewellery out of the pot and onto a paper towel she had procured.
Once more Jay went back to the washroom with her paper towel, locking the door behind her. Her excitement was mounting, and butterflies abounded within her. Beneath it all, a thread of nervousness wound its through her anticipation. She set the paper towel down on the counter before washing her hands, then taking up her antibacterial soap and hydrogen peroxide for one final washing of the needle and jewellery. One wash and dry of her hands later, and the girl shakily took up the needle, staring in wonder at its hollow, 14-gauge glory. At this point all of her fears and apprehension of the risk of a used needle evaporated.
I need to do this, for me.
Lubricating and lining up the needle, Jay began to push from the inner rim outwards. There was little pain, just the empty shock of hearing the bevel crunch its way through the initial layers of cartilage. Treacherous fear crept its way into her mind, and for a long moment, she couldn't push for the irrational fear of hearing the crunch of more cartilage as the needle cleaved its way through.
A deep breath.
She pushed harder, using her thumb against the back, going slowly so that the line she had drawn would not be in vain. That terrible sound of her cartilage being sliced ensued. It seemed that every millimetre took an eternity, and between these eternities Jay had to stop and breathe.
Finally, a tiny speck of sharp metal – the very tip of the needle – could be seen on the outer rim of her ear, like the beak of a newborn chick trying to reach the light of the outside world. But it wasn't nearly over yet. With a grimace and a quiet growl, Jay pushed even harder, trying to break through the very last layer of skin with the bevel. This was where the pain began. Her ear was a brilliant shade of scarlet, and her cheeks flamed almost as brightly. Her breath came in stops and starts. With an almighty shove the bevel broke right through the skin all at once, for which she gasped aloud in astonishment. There was no blood to be seen, only the threat from the surrounding blood vessels in her crimson ear.
It was relatively simplistic to push the rest of the needle to the end, whereupon Jay finally took up the labret stud and attempted to follow through. Her hands shook badly and in her effort the needle fell from her ear. Undaunted but shaky, Jay managed to find the site of the hole and pushed the labret stud through, with surprising ease and no pain at all. With a little more consternation on her part, she managed to screw the miniscule ball onto the post.
Fifteen minutes later, after a cleaning and a sea salt soak, Jay fell onto her bed with the dopey grin of an adrenaline rush on her face. She glanced once more to the clock – almost 4:00 a.m. Yawning widely, she fell into the sweet caress of sleep.* * * * *
Jay awoke in the morning to find the labret stud too short in her ear, with the ball pressing down uncomfortably. Delving into her jewellery box, she took out a small – but longer – curved barbell, cleaned it with hydrogen peroxide in the washroom, and changed out the labret stud. After a salt soak the newest addition to Jay's adornments was hidden beneath a flap of black hair. At that point her mother came out of her bedroom, yawning.
"Good morning, Mum," Jay said brightly.
"Good morning, honey," Her mother said, smiling, before heading downstairs for breakfast.
Jay smiled inwardly. The day would come when she would buy long, spiked labret studs, and she would have her own liberty – no, not liberty – Glory Spikes. Recalling the night's adventures in her mind, Jay sighed happily, and followed her mother downstairs.
All that was left were the three small white bleach stains on the carpet.The End