Random Writings

Words will never hurt me

Warm afternoon of summer shined down on my exposed back, the suns breath toasted my skin as the soft breeze blew across my body. The feeling of a drop of water rippling a pond imploding within me as I took in the perfect weather.

No one was here to enjoy it with.

People, critters, insects and birds were not in sight. Vine green grass stretched across the field, it's long hair grazing across my ankles and elbows whilst I read my book; knees pulled towards my chest. The sky was clear and shone a beautiful rich blue with a yellow sun stamped in the middle of it. There were no trees for miles, just a field filled with flowers.

Pretty flowers.
Small, delicate velvet like petals; just holding the plant the wrong way could ruin its form. I had picked four pretty ones and laid them across my book. A small forget me not had its baby blue flower buds grouped by the end of the page. While a soft pink chrysanthemum laid across the page neighbouring the purple violet and yellow dandelion. The cream colour of the ageing book page allowed the baby flowers colours to shine more brightly, an Easter themed display of flowers.

Yet even at the pretty sight I looked past the flowers and into the inky black words on the page. I pulled out the smooth piece of grass I had been twisting and felt the breeze grow heavy against my body. Instead of a gentle hold it was pushing me, my muscles crushing my ribs against my skin as the words of the book haunt me.

'Shes beautiful'

Those words hurt more than any stick or stone. It was something I could ever have. Many times had I been compared to others and the one thing I lack was the vanity of my appearance. It was humiliating, the only thing they cared about was my face, my weight, my height, my teeth. Nothing else. Just beauty.

My body no longer felt the perfect weather, instead it seemed to be just a fat chunk of lard. My legs now seemed to be fatter than before, the outfit I wore seemed to stretch and practically beg to be ripped at the weight of my body. I was a fat beast begging to be mocked.

No wonder older women would laugh behind my back and point at me. No wonder I could fit into mens clothing. No wonder the sight of myself staring back miserably in the mirror horrified me more than any tragedy. I was disgusting. A small hollow feeling inside me grew slowly, but it only lengthened my self hatred and sadness. An anchor pulling me back down to my sad reality.

Who would what somone as ugly and fat as me.