Guilty Pleasure Jex003

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a short I provided for a school assignment last year based on the first bit of my first ever completed novel (which I hope to go trough and edit more over the summer once I'my done my first year of university). It also reflects a self hatred I struggled with myself for a long while. I struggled with depression for a while, and sometimes it can still be difficult today. In the school assignment, a published writer would read our works and provide feedback. I only received positive feedback for this one, which was really great for me.

(Note that the title "Guilty Pleasure" already exists, Jex003 is a pseudonym that I often use) Thanks.

Submitted: April 13, 2012

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Submitted: April 13, 2012




I stare into the face of the girl across from me. She is straight faced, simple looking. Not particularly attractive but I suppose that’s not to be changed.

“You’re ugly,” she says. 

I flip my hair out from behind my ear, so it covers my face and I see her do the same.

“Are you mocking me?” I ask.

“What do you think?” she asks in return, not answering my question.

“I think you need to leave,” I say, trying to turn away.

“Lie to yourself, don’t lie to me,” I hear her chanting as I turn away from her. She’s calling me back and this is just her way of doing it. Like always. “You can’t live without me,” she adds.

“I can try,”

“Don’t walk away from me,” she demands.

“You don’t control me,” I say. She shakes her head in return.

“Are you sure about that? You know our bond is stronger than any other there is. You can try to ignore me, but you know I’ll just find you. You can’t run and you can’t hide.”

“You know nothing about me,” I snap at her.

“I know more than even you,”

“Then you know that if you won’t leave, I will,” I turn towards the door, but she speaks before I can escape.

“Please. Don’t act like you’re so innocent. You love me,” she’s grinning at me as she says this.

“Stop, please,” I whisper.

“Why would anyone ever love you? You’re not smart, you’re not pretty, you’re not thin, you’re not talented in any way at all; you have no worth. You can do whatever you want to try and change that, but it will never change. There will always be someone smarter, thinner, prettier and all around more talented than you. Accept it.”

I feel my eyes begin to burn and I lower my face to stare at the sink below me.

“Look at me,” she says. I shake my head.

“No,” I say. “I can’t.”

Look at me.” I force my eyes up to her face.

“Why do you even bother? Why are you here? No one wants you. You’re just a problem for everyone else to deal with. All you ever do is cause trouble. You should just leave.”

“Where do I go?” I ask.

“You know where,” she says.

“No, I have nowhere I could go,”

“There’s one place where everyone goes eventually,”

“You mean…” I allow my question to go unfinished.

“Yes. You could go and take all your problems with you. No more burdening others,”

“But I couldn’t do that. It’s ridiculous,”

“It’s simple. You’re walking along Bayview Bridge and whoops! You slip,”

“No. That would just case more trouble. What would my mom do?”

“Then perhaps Bayview Harbour? No problems left behind,”

“I’m scared…” I mumble.


“I’m scared!” I scream.

“Of course you’re scared! That’s because you’re weak!” she’s shrieking at me now. “You can’t do it because you’re a scared little girl! You’re a tiny, useless person who can’t do anything for yourself!”

“Go away!” I cry as my fist collides with the glass in front of me. It shatters and sprinkles to the ground as if it’s raining tiny diamonds. I feel heat on my knuckles and look down to see blood slowly oozing out from beneath my skin. I turn on the tap in front of me and rinse my hand under cold water, my eyes staring straight ahead of the grey rectangle on the wall that used to be a mirror.

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