October 8, 2011
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You know what my greatest fear is? A mirror. Because after wiping off the mask of lies that I wear every day, it is just plain old me, staring back.

I look at myself and I want to throw up. Every imperfection, every stray flaw glares out from my face, commanding my attention. I want to cry; it’s not fair, why can’t I be perfect? Who would ever want me? And as the tears begin to well up, my face becomes even uglier, a puffy, pink mass of repellant flesh.

My hands tremble, yearning to rip apart my own skin in their self-loathing. I just want to escape, be free of this disgusting vessel. The hate is so strong that I’m excreting slime from every pore. I stumble out of the bathroom, tearing away from that repulsive reflection.

I fall face-down onto the mattress and stay there. Here it is dark and warm, with safety and comfort as long as I don’t open my eyes and remember who I am. Soon, my empty sobs cease and I drift off to sleep.

* * *

Above the bed is a certificate, framed and shining: 1st Prize of the Miss USA Beauty Pageant!

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