The Real Me

May 19, 2008
By Jennifer Khan, Long Island City, NY

I am known as pretty, popular, blonde, hot, bubbly with joy, and whatever. Every girl envies me, and want to be me. The fake me. The fake London. Everyone suspects me with no problems in life. Well they are wrong. I hate them. I hate them all. If they knew the realm me would they ever want to be me anymore? No. They would leave me as a leper. The real London. The real London is a girl who has lots of issues in her life, and she drains her sorrows but junk food, and sticking her own tow fingers down her throat.
I go to my room, put my DO NOT ENTER! sign, locked the door, and went to work. My simple baby pink bedspread didn't look so simple, and clean anymore. My maid Tanya always makes my bed neat. That's how I like it. When I look at my bed now, I was disgusted. Laid on my bed was junk food. Like a lot of junk food. Well someone had to clear this mess up.
There were tiny colorful candies, chips, and my favorite: chocolate. It's every child's dream. Lays, Doritos, Fritos, Cheese Doodles, caramel, brownies, chocolate chips, Hershey’s, Kit Kat, M&M's both peanut, and milk chocolate, Snickers, Mr. Goodbar, my favorite Recess, every chocolate imaginable. Time to get to work.
When I was shopping for all this, my friend Laila came with me. That ugly brat was like "Are you seriously buying that? Do you like know how many calories are in there?" " Totally Laila", I say. " I need it for my brother, because his hot friends are coming over, so I'm buying it for them so I could chill with them," I say coolly.
I started to eat. I ate away the hurt and pain. I ripped open the wrappers like a lion tearing up their prey, the deer. I stuff it in my mouth. I chewed, and swallowed. I hardly could breathe, but I still kept stuffing my mouth. i remember how my boyfriend Chris cheated on me, for my big sister Suzanne. I hate Suzanne. My dad is hardly ever home because work, and late night booze is more important than family, but the main reason is that idiot Suzanne.
Suzanne isn't a real sister. She is just a tumor who keeps growing, and growing. I'm her shadow. I hate my her. Just because she is better than me doesn't make her Ms. Perfect. Just because she got into a Ivy League college, doesn't mean mom, and dad should like her more.
I finish up my junk food, quickly threw out the wrappers on a white plastic garbage bag, and quickly head to the bathroom. I lock the door, and I first check my reflection on the bathroom mirror. Is this a mirage? Nope. It's the real, defeated London. She had chocolate smeared on her caked with a concealed face, her tumbleweed hair was filled with wrappers, and her eyes were making an ocean bigger than the Pacific.
"Who is this girl?" I ask my reflection. It comes out chocked, and croaky. Great. I might as well be a frog, but not even warty toads would even like me.
I stare at the shiny white toilet's swirling waters. Maybe if I threw up blood again, like last time, my parents will like me better than Suzanne. Who am I kidding? They would send me to a hospital, and forever leave me in a deserted boarding school, with manicatical lunatics.
My fingers are almost halfway down my throat but I saw my big brother Luke in my head. He was a clear image in my mind. I told Luke that I was bulimic, and spilled out all my problems. I even told him my life is going to an end. Luke was real angry, and made me promise to not do it again. He said " Hey squirt, I love you so much, and I can't bear to lose you. You are my one and only little sister." Luke loves me, and thinks I'm important.
One sentence ran to my mind. Luke said to me "Hey shortie, no one is perfect, and if you want you can even listen to that cheesy Miley song 'Nobody is Perfect'."
That satisfied me so I wash my hair, brush my hair, dried up my face, sip some water from the sink, and I run to out of the room in search of my brother. The only one who really, truly cares about me.

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