Dacey couldn't help but wince when she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. She'd never been considered beautiful--her ears were too big, she had too many freckles, her nose was too long and too upturned, her cheekbones were too prominent, and ten thousand other things that she and others had picked out over the years. The best she had ever managed was "cute." That had been some time ago, before she'd broken her nose and gained the scar that went down through her left eyebrow, over her nose and onto her right cheek.
Now, with her new collection of scars over her entire body, eerily glowing scarlet with circuitry, she definitely didn't qualify as cute. Intimidating, maybe. Downright freaky, maybe. That's what she felt like. A freak. Even her long, wavey, auburn hair--which she had considered her best attribute--had been shorn off.
Dr. Chakwas and Miranda both insisted that the scars would probably heal in time. If not, the doctor could aquire special equipment to get rid of them.
She wasn't certain why they bothered her so much. She'd stopped being so concerned with her appearance many years ago.
Somehow, this was different, like a morbid reminder etched into her skin telling everyone that she wasn't supposed to be here. She was a freak of nature. She should be dead on a frozen planet with her ship.