The monster inside my head...

I'm not perfect

"There is no monster under your bed" my mum use to say. There isn't any monsters under my bed. But there is one in my head.

Your stupid, ugly, fat, a loser, dumb. No one likes you. The monster inside Beth's head tells her these things every night. Crying herself to sleep hoping that she won't wake up the next day.

Bethany's view:

I walk into school, mascara running down my face. School hasn't even started yet but I'm already crying. It hurts. Pain isn't getting a paper cut or hitting your finger with a hammer. Pain is looking in the mirror every morning wondering why you are still here. Wishing you fitted in. Wanting a purpose, wondering if life would be any different without you. That's real pain.

Fingers. Fingers pointing at me. Coming at me from every direction. Snickers, smirks, cackles, giggles. I can't take it. I run to the bathrooms. "Where ya goin?" laughed Britany. The cause of my depressing. The reason I cry myself to sleep each night.

I stare at myself in the mirror. I pull my backpack up onto the bathroom sink. A pink and black Abercrombie & Fitch backpack. I found it at Vinnie's, only 2.99. I unzip the front pocket and pull out my makeup bag. Every top brand makeup product inside, but I'm still not good enough. I re-apply my face, pull my hood up over my head and walk out the bathroom, down the hall, to my locker.

Note: Remember your beautiful, stay strong.

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