he sat on his bed , he felt alone. He looked at the mirror in the corner…why did he look so ….different. He felt ..ugly. Every flaw was more noticeable. The stitches on his face looked wrong . He wasn’t made right. He wasn’t made the way he had wanted to be made . He sighed looking at himself again…and then looking down….he felt the scars on his chest…against the fabric of his shirt. Nothing felt right.