I was perfect. I did everything my parents could dream of me doing. I swam for a club, I danced and I worked hard for everything. I loved life I was excited to wake up every morning. But then the first thing happened I got told to kill myself u fat pig, many people say being told this doesn't mean much but to me it felt as though I wanted to I mean I hated still hate the way I look my mom tried to put me on diets and make me workout,and tell me I'm fat I mean I cried looking at myself.
I soon learnt everyone is beautiful and gained confidence. The next incident one of my closest friends told me I was fat and should slit my wrists and kill myself. At this point I crashed on the floor and cried for hours without my mom realising cause I thought she wouldn't care I mean I knew she thought I was obese so she wouldn't care. I wanted to die at this point I hated myself so much and I felt like nobody cared for me I thought everyone thought I was just this kid with a perfects sister meanwhile I'm the fat one with a horrible personality and a rebel at heart. My mom told me I was a rebel and was going to end up like her sister. At this point I couldn't look at myself without tears in my eyes. I grabbed my razor and glided it against my skin, it burned but I felt as though I deserved it. Nobody knew. I thought know one would care.My dad made my sister breakfast every morning and made sure her bags were ready and she looked perfect. I'm a rebel I cried I'm a rebel. I'm a fat bitch I should just go slit my wrists and go to hell. I want to die and I still do I hate myself and no body relisise.
