Little Miss Imperfect

Balancing things

Slight Tw: abuse

                                   ~Alissa~

Beep! Beep! Beep!

"Ugh"

I woke up dreading the day ahead of me as usual. I threw the covers off my lap and stood up stretching. I ignored the dizziness that washed over me as I reached into the sky. I'm stressed, it's probably normal I thought as I brought my arms down. Sluggishly I picked up my phone and looked through my messages. Nothing unusual just my best friend aka the least sane person I know having and argument with her sugar rush emotional support person (soon to be boyfriend)
in the group chat. Sometimes I wished they would just get a room. I did my usual morning routine but today I had the absolutely most insane rush of confidence so instead of wearing the modest clothes my dad wanted me to wear, I picked out something a little more...me.

I put on a slightly cropped long sleeved shirt and black leggings. I tied up my hair into a ponytail and grabbed my high top vans. Sneaking yet another quick glance in the mirror,I grabbed my backpack and vermillion sketchbook. "Ok I can do this," I let out a long sigh while staring at my shoes. Getting up was starting to become harder, my bones felt frail, and I could barely hold myself up. But I convinced myself that I would get used to it. Slowly I grabbed the door handle and pulled. I took one last deep breath and walked downstairs silently praying that my father would pay no mind to my outfit. "Good morning dad," I said, as shuffled through the living room. I looked towards the floor trying to avoid his stare.

"What are you wearing Alissa?" He said bitterly. I came to a halt. The blood drained from my face. His eyes burned holes into my neck. I cautiously turned around as if he would get less mad the slower I was. I looked him in the eyes expecting a lecture but instead he stood up not even look me in the eye, grabbed my shoulder and looked at me with pure disgust. "What did I say about wearing such clothes?" There was an eerie scene of calm in his voice. "I did not raise a whore!" There it was.
Despite my fear I kept my face neutral. He chuckled bitterly under his breath. "Besides, it makes you look fat." I've heard these exact words several times yet it still felt like he ripped my heart out. Tears threatened to spill over, he let go of my shoulder and I ran back upstairs holding my breath.

I tried my best not to cry but the tears just started flowing out. Hastily I closed the door to my room, put on a plain beige shirt and looked at myself in the mirror. "I'm not fat," I mumbled, trying my best to believe it. But the mirror said otherwise.
It always did.

After getting my father's approval I left my oh so 'perfect' house. I just knew it was gonna be hard day.

"That was stupid."

                                  ~Luz~

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Uggggggghhhhhh." I groaned; opening my eyes. Sunlight spilled through the curtains, illuminated my room and almost blinded me. Of course I forgot to close the curtains.
With heavy steps I shuffled downstairs and made my way to the kitchen; wrapped in a fluffy blanket. I nearly dozed off while making my daily smoothie, strawberry and kiwi (I know how fruity of me). My mind started drifting as I plopped the fruit into the blender. "Maybe I should go to Ro's and grab a coff-."

"Luz!" I jumped and whirled around at the familiar voice. "M-mom? What are you doing here?" She looked completely wasted; red rimmed eyes, trembling form, pupils blown. "I needed a place to crash until Danny forgives me." I rolled my eyes and turned back to the smoothie that I was making. Why now?

Danny is my mother's on and off boyfriend. She lives with him most of the time until they fight and he kicks her out. And she comes back like this, livid and stoned. Ready to take her anger out on me."Strawberry smoothie, eh? Looks like somebody has her fathers'shit taste." She scrunched up her face in distaste.

I scowled and looked her up and down. Her hair was heavily matted."Your one to talk," I grumbled. A harsh blow was delivered across my cheekbone. She grabbed my chin. "Luz Caterina Lopez. You do not speak to me that way!" Tears pricked my eyes and I jerked out of her grip.

"I would be polite if you stopped acting like this." She looked hurt. But she can't be hurt, right? Since when did she start caring about what I think? About what anyone thinks? "I'm too tired for this shit." She mumbled; making her way upstairs. I let out a breath that I didn't even realise I was holding

That was the first time that I had seen her in three months and that was our first encounter? I finished off my smoothie and headed to my room to get dressed. Why did I feel bad for her?Without a care I walked through my excuse of a bedroom floor before I noticed a picture amongst the mess. It was little me and my best friend we were sitting on a bright pink couch. That was before she left. My smile faded into a frown. Some things are better forgotten I decided heading towards my mirror. I put on a black toob-top, black cargo pants with a silver chain on the right side. Black doc martens with rainbow laces and a lesbian flag pin, grey and black cropped plad jacket. Then finally pushed the hair out of my face with a head band.
Did she feel bad?

"Not the best but it will do."

Finally I hopped onto my motorcycle; speeding away without another thought except for the looming feeling of guilt that followed me.