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That's what I assumed when I woke up early one Monday morning and saw the whitish-red bump in the middle of my forehead. Just a garden variety zit. I groaned and tried for a bit to pop it before school, but the skin refused to break and only inflamed, so I dabbed some concealer on it to bring down the redness and hoped for the best. After all, what else could I do? It was only a zit. Not the end of the world.
The day after, the zit was bigger. It had grown from the size of maybe a couple of millimeters to maybe covering the size of a dime. That's how much was red anyway. I looked disparagingly at the spot and dabbed on more concealer before school. I asked my friend to recommend an acne cream and I got some at the pharmacy on the way home. I put it on before I went to bed.
When I looked the next morning, I nearly choked. The zit was now the size of a dollar coin, still in the center of my forehead and redder than ever. I touched it, and was horrified to find it felt hard, and almost scaley to the touch. I went to my mom. She examined it a moment and told me it was just dried out. She gave me some moisturizer to try and sent me away. That night I used it, hoping for success.
When I looked in the mirror the next day, I admit I started to panic. The red spot wasn't any wider, but it had still swollen outwards. It protruded out from my head. Still, when I touched it, it wasn't as hard as before. I tried to pop it again, but when I tried to squeeze it, I felt intense pain and had to stop. Concealer wasn't going to help this. Still, I assumed the moisturizer did something to help since it wasn't dry and crusty anymore. I decided to put some more on before school. I had some comments from friends during lunch, one suggested I see a doctor about it. I laughed that off. Yes it was huge and gross, but it was just a zit. What was a doctor going to do about it, other than tell me to use the creams I was already using?
When I woke up on Friday and checked the mirror, I felt some relief. The swelling seemed to have gone down a bit, at the very least it hadn't grown worse. I poked it and winced. It was very tender, and squished under my finger, but it also hurt like a bitch. I decided that I would try more of that moisturizer that my mom had given me. I told her that it was working well. She smiled at me and told me that she knew it would.
Then came Saturday. I woke up, blinking blearily. The sun was streaming in around my blinds. I closed my eyes tight to block out the light and turned over to bury my face into the pillow. However, I suddenly felt a sharp stinging on my forehead and jolted back from the pillow, my vision blurred as if I was tearing up. I swung my legs over the side of my bed and stumbled off down the hall to the bathroom. I looked into the bathroom mirror, rubbing at my eyes when I realized; my eyes were closed. But I was still looking at myself. A scream rose to my lips as my hands fell away and my eyes opened. Three eyes stared back at me from the mirror; the two I'd known all my life, and one in the middle of my forehead, as big as a dollar coin. I couldn't blink it, or move it like my others, it stared straight ahead as I screamed and screamed, my fingernails clawing through my cheeks in horror.
Not all zits go away.