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I gaze into my dirty mirror. Silence rings across my empty walls with the distant sound of raindrops tapping at my broken window. My new, tight-fitting, baby blue jeans that I struggled to get on plaster to my mid stomach while a yellow long sleeved pullover hides my fading tan arms. Honey blonde hair slips out of the world’s messiest bun, framing my much too round face. Freckles hide the fact my acne has gotten worse; grandma glasses cover my dark blue eye bags.
I look fine. It’s just school.
You’re kidding right? Look at you. It’s like the before photo of My 600 lb Life.
I pull my glasses to the top my head and apply mascara. My mouth hangs open as I concentrate on my naturally long eyelashes. One last blink, and there. I allow my glasses to slide down to the tip of my nose.
Ha! “Perfect?” You’re hilarious. Mascara just brings out your dark circles. You look almost identical to a raccoon.
I gather my books, throw on some mitch-matched socks, and hurry down the stairs. I pull my brown leather boots on, throw my stuff in my colorful bag, and I wait for time to tick by. I sit uncomfortably on my itchy couch as the buttons of my pants dig into my center.
I’ve been wanting these jeans forever, but they’re a little tight.
Wanna know why?
It’s cause you’re a fat a**.
“You all ready to go?” my father asks coming down the stairs.
“Have all your stuff?”
“Packed your lunch?”
I hesitate before I answer.
“Yup.” I lie.
“Great.” he responds while jingling his keys. “Let’s get moving then.”
I despise school for many reasons. One is it’s smell. It sometimes smells of cow manure cause of agriculture in the mornings. The bathrooms reek of old piss and weed. The whole aroma of the school just smells...sad. Another is I hate people, especially the people around me. Everyone is just so concerned with themselves: who likes them, if they have a certain amount of Instagram followers, if they look good. I can’t look down upon them, I guess, because I’m like that too.
Yah. The only difference is no one will ever like your ugly a**, nobody cares about your Insta account, and you don’t ever and will never look good no matter what you do.
Another lunch eaten alone, watching groups of friends tell jokes, spread rumors, and eat. Awkward glances at people I know but not good enough to talk to. I want to sit with them, eat and laugh. But I don’t.
Cause you know you’re not wanted or accepted into this hell. You don’t look or talk or act like anyone here. So just sit there in your corner.
I work on homework that was due last week, desperately waiting for the bell to ring. My only real friend is in my fifth period. Sure I have to wait awhile to see her, but it’s worth it. I have another close friend who I see all the time during passing period, but we don’t have a class together. We’re the three musketeers, depending on each other to get through high school.
The bell rings.
I see him as I rush to fifth period. His slick, chocolate blonde hair always being styled by his petite hands. We’re roughly the same height, he being only a few inches taller. Our eyes lock onto each others, and though it was just for just a brief second, all of time stopped. My heart laid still on top of my lungs, holding onto captured air. I smile, just enough to show my dimples. I notice the panic, blended with excitement, in his eyes. He smiles ear to ear at me, with a little wave. I feel my whole face turn red with a warm, pure joy. My mouth opens up to real smile. I true smile. We keep walking
Oh my gosh. I think I like him. But it kinda seems like he likes me back.
Um, why? Look at you. You look like s***.
But did you see how he looked at me? That’s not the first time either.
Yah. I did. You know who else looked at you like that? Your freshman crush. Who googled at you all through class. And just let me remind you he liked your body until you opened up your disgusting personality upon him.
Well he isn’t like that.
“I have to tell you something.” she says as I approach her. Her face was swollen with delight, her cheeks more red than usual.
“Me too.” I tell her, my mind still on my new found crush. “You first.”
“So, wanna know what our dude told me during lunch.”
I laugh, expecting it to be some ridiculous joke. “What.”
“He told me he likes me.” She blurts out, jumping up and down like a child on Christmas.
With those simple words, I felt my entire world crumble. I quickly throw on my best fake smile.
“Seriously? That’s so great!” I lie, “Do you like him?”
“Yah we’ve been holding hands and stuff when we go to class together.”
No. No No. This can not be happening.
“Oh wow. I-I don’t know what to say.”
“I know, right!”
The tardy bell echoed in my ears. She talked about him the whole class period. My mind fogged up. I denied the fact that this was real. I’m going to wake up here in a second. Any minute now. I’ll wake up in my bed, surround in warmth, with the pitter patter of rain tapping on the roof.
But I didn’t.
My tears don’t seem to stop as a sob into my Eeyore plushie late after midnight.
I don’t know how many times I’ve told you that they don’t care about you. Now, you will be nothing but a third wheel. A bump on the log.
Stop what? Reminding you that I am always right? That you should have listened to me in the first place?
I’m losing my closest friends. And that’s all you have to say?
No. I have more. When your “crush” smiled so dopily at you, did you ever stop to think there was probably someone who was actually attractive behind you?
I am not going to think about that right now.
People always tell me life will get better. Eventually. But right now, I guess I’ll just sit and watch the only world I’ve ever known burn.
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