I wish I could have replied to the man in kind as he attempted to pull what was thought to be a simple mask from off my face. Nothing drove him but shear unblinking interest to see from whence my muffled reverberating voice truly emitted from, for he believed no voice could possibly issue forth from unmoving lips; and as the man approached with hands raised towards me I backed away swiftly in retreat. Still again he advanced without pause, my obvious gesture of avoidance dissuading him not.
      With a terrifying thoughtless expression of curiosity on his face, the man tucked the fingers of each his hands under my chin and exerted only a small amount of force making my head and neck unwillingly follow. Again, harder this time he jerked back with his arms peeling away a slight and sudden dark opening.
      It took him more then a moment to notice the thick black oil which began flowing down onto my neck, his hands, and the ground below us as he continued to pry away beneath the cold steel which made up my visage. With fierce determination he pulled, his grip slipping on the smooth now oily metallic surface of what he still believed was but a mask to hide the truth behind. Higher and higher it rose as without acceptance, rather un-surrendering intensity, the man continued tearing, not understanding that the face he saw was the only face I had.