That night I lay restless in my bed, tossing and turning, feeling the cloth of my pillow against my bare face. I plucked my skin and rubbed my eyes. I was finally free. I wondered if people would even recognize me without my mask. Now that my brother and I had shed our disguises in front of each other, I felt closer to him. The men in charge have long said that the masks "aren't meant to put space between us but to bridge the gap of class." I had believed it without question before but now I was seeing things differently, almost in a literal sense.

In the morning I tied my mask on again and ran out into the forest once more. The hustle and bustle of the village was drowned out by the soft but constant moaning of swaying trunks and branches. Now that I was alone, I felt okay to undo my mask once more. I let it fall to the ground, and grab onto an evergreen branch, shaking it violently. Needles rain down on me and I lift my face up to them, feeling each and every prickly pine needle graze my face.

Suddenly I hear a branch in front of me snap. A dark figure moves past a group of trees in front of me–I can see their deep blue eyes. They weren't wearing a mask, either.

"Who's there?"

I take a step back to better survey my surroundings and–crunch. It was my mask. I had stepped on my mask.

I look down at the now chalky and broken up bits of my old disguise. Split into fourths, I hold up the remains, and look back up in front of me to catch a glimpse of the figure in the forest–but it was gone.

My mother was going to kill me. Getting a new mask cost money, and in the meantime I'd have to wear a replacement to avoid embarrassment and ostracism from the community. Those who went without a mask for long soon found themselves stuck with a black one, and overnight you could go from farmer to undesirable.

Although the loss of my mask was distressing to a point, I also felt liberated. I ran back to the village, feeling the wind rush against my face for the first time. Covering my face with my shirt, I swung the door to my small home open and dashed into my room. I got down on my chest and scrambled to find my replacement mask underneath my bed. My hand finds it and I tie it back on, hidden again. In the village without a mask I felt like a diver without a breathing apparatus, but in the forest I could breath freely.

Who was with me in the forest? And why weren't they wearing a mask?