"Aren't you forgetting something?" her mother asked, tilting her head. The piercing look she gave her daughter since shivers down her spine. She handed her the mask.
"I shouldn't have to remind you, you know," She could not hide the scorn in her voice. "You can't go out without. Who would want to see your face anyw---"
Her daughter yanked the mask out of her hands, making a face at her oh-so-perfect mother. She held it up and fit it perfectly onto her face. Her mother then fit her own mask on, smoothed out her dress, and fixed her hair.
An artifical smile on an artificial face to go on your artificial heart.
She sneered at her mother. But deep inside her heart, beneath the anger, she felt nothing but sadness.
"There. Now that feels better, doesn't it?"