I Just Want To Be Pretty

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
a very short story about a girl and her demons.

Submitted: May 01, 2016

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Submitted: May 01, 2016

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"I just want to be pretty" she screams inside her head, "I want to be pretty" she repeats out loud as a tear escapes from her imperfect eyes and runs down her imperfect skin. 

She makes no attempt to stop it, instead she just stares into the mirror that is hung in front of her, she stares at it as if it will magically turn her into some kind of pretty human being and not the ugly mess that she is now, but nothing, miracles like that only happen in fairy tales. 
 
"You have my genes, fat and ugly" the voices in her head repeat what her mother had said, taunting her, pushing her. "Fat and ugly" they taunt once more, she looks down at her over sized body, the fat that is clear to see sits there looking back at her, she looks at her thighs and the stretch marks that have scarred her body, proving a point that she was overweight. Her hand runs along these marks as the tears start to roll down her cheek and splash onto her leg, she keeps her head down and closes her eyes tight, maybe when she opens them again the fat will be gone, she will have a new face, new body, new everything. 
 
She refuses to open her eyes, knowing everything will be the same, knowing that she will still be the person she hates the most... Herself. 
"I can't do this today, I can't do this anymore, any of it" she whispers weakly as she slowly opens her eyes, they meet with the sad red eyes that are staring at her in the mirror, they are lifeless and sad, not a glimmer of happiness in them, they are her eyes, the imperfect shape and colour, surrounded by imperfect skin that is now red and blotchy. She touches her face gently and shakes her head, she has too many spots and too many black heads, she has stupid shaped lips that sit awkwardly on her face, her nose is too big and her chin is all the wrong shape. Everything on her is wrong, is ugly, is another reminder of what she is. 
 
She looks at her arms, no scars and no cuts, she would never go that far, or that obvious. Her arms are covered in dark hair, hair that would come back twice as bad if it was shaved, she grabs her arm violently and digs her nails into her flesh, her crying turns into hysterics. She stops. 
 
She gets up from the mirror, she cleans herself up, removing any evidence that she has been crying, she gets dressed and applies makeup putting on a fake smile. She leaves the house and heads towards the bus stop. "One day you'll be good enough" she whispers to herself. 


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