Desperately, I surveyed the huge market. My eyes darted from stall to stall, in the hope that I could find what I came here for. A strange artefact surrounded by brightly coloured jewels caught me off guard, almost distracting me, but I refused to be fazed by the peculiarity of this place. It suddenly occurred to me that I was very much out of place. The people here were... different.

A firm hand gripped my shoulder from behind, causing me to flinch and turn around dubiously. An elder woman with a slight hunch was looking up at me. She did not speak but signalled for me to follow her. I nodded, as she led me to a plush velvet curtain in a rich shade of plum. Past the curtain was a trapdoor, which the old woman opened up with a metal rod, and I did not hesitate to climb down the ladder which led me far, far below.

At the bottom of the ladder, I turned around, marvelling at the sights that beheld. Stunningly shaped glass reflected the little squares of sunlight that entered through tiny windows near the ceiling. It was clear that this room did not belong with the rest of the black market. The woman coughed, motioning that we did not have much time, and proceeded to hand me a tea stained sheet of paper, filled with question. Hastily, I noted down my answers. I was only moments away from receiving what I had been dreaming of my entire life. I returned the paper, and I could feel my face light up in anticipation, but the woman remained expressionless as she read through the questions and walked through another luxurious set of curtains.

After thirty minutes of revelling at the luxuries surrounding me, the old woman emerged, followed by a lean figure with silky dark brown hair, and piercing green eyes. She let out a slight squeal and ran into my arms. I was taken aback for a slight moment, but embraced her warm, beating body. She felt so real. She was everything I wanted, everything I had selected. The old woman smiled coldly at me and I passed her the money I had stuffed away, deep in my pocket.

As I headed home with the girl of my dreams, I couldn’t help but look deep into her emerald eyes. They were so full of life for someone who had been created in a mere half hour. I dismissively put those thoughts aside. I had everything I had ever wanted holding onto my arm for warmth, and I smiled to myself, finally content. From her body shape to her beautifully healthy hair and perfect cheekbones, she was everything a man could ever-

I felt something plunge into my back, causing me to drop to the floor. My newfound love was towering above me, holding a bloodstained knife. She uttered one last sentence before the world went dark:

“People like you are the reason body standards still exist.”