A Not So Perfect Life.

Did Becky Make A Mistake?

It was time. Time for my date with that salesman I met at the mall. He's taking me to this really fancy restaurant. I looked through my closet for something decent to wear. Perfect. I found a black and white dress that went up to my knee and had long sleeves. I grabbed the straightening iron and began slowly straightening my hair. I applied black mascara and eyeliner on my eyes and black lipstick on my lips. If I'm going on a date, I should at least show him who I really am. Well, of course he wouldn't know I had scars or was bullied but this shows my character more. I hope he liked it.

*honk honk*

He was here. A smile spread across my face. I crossed my fingers hoping this would all go well. After all, last time he saw me I had blonde hair and wasn't emo. I slipped on some of my moms black high heels and rushed out the door.

I could easily spot him in his car. I smiled and waved. "Hi," I said getting into the car. "Wow, you changed...a lot," he said seriously. "Yep," I said nervously. "Is there a specific reason?" he asked. "Well Yes, I'll just tell you when we get to the restaurant," I said. "Okay," he said. He started the engine and drove off. My hair flowing in the breeze felt nice.

We were there in a solid thirty minutes. I took a breath and walked out of the car. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and waited for him to come around the car. "Oh by the way, I never got your name," I said. "Oh, it's Chase," he said smiling. "Oh kay," I said.

We walked into the building not saying anything to each other.

After a while waiting, we were finally seated at a nice, small table for two in the back corner. We both took our seats and started looking at the menu. A woman with a little order-taking pad walked up to us. "Can I get anything for you to drink?" she asked with a fake smile. "I'll have a coke," Chase said smiling. The waitress turned to me. "I'll...just have water," I said gloomily. "Okay, coming right up," she said and started walking away. "Is something wrong?" he asked. "Oh..um nothing," what I really was thinking was Everything. "You can tell me if there is," he said. "Thanks," I said forcing a little smile.

A few minutes later my tongue was touched by icy cold water. Refreshing. "So...how has life been for you?" he asked. "Good...I guess," I lied. "Please don't lie," he said sincerely. "Fine....not so great," I said. "Why?" he asked. I scratched my neck "Lets stop talking about me now, I want to hear more about you," I said trying to change the subject. Before he could say another word the waitress came and handed us our food.

Well. His food. I didn't really have that much food. All I had was fries, grapes, and water. Still, I was eating. I didn't really want to be anorexic. I was scared. I wanted to be skinny though.

"So um...when do you think you are going to become....like...not emo anymore?" he asked. That really pissed me off. "I don't know...why?" I asked. "Well...um...because...nevermind," he said. "No, tell me," I said narrowing my eyes. "Fine....I...I don't like emo girls," he confessed. "What?!" I yelled in a sort of loud tone. "Let me rephrase that, I don't like emo people," he said. I was really REALLY mad. "Why?" I asked. "Well, they're so depressed and I think they are kind of selfish," he said. "How the heck are they selfish?" I asked. "Well most of them are suicidal and do self-harm, but while they do that, when they do kill themselves the parents have lost their daughter and then people blame them for not knowing about their daughter being depressed even though the daughter probably never told them," he said with a straight face. "You have no idea what it's like," I said with a whisper narrowing my eyes. "What?" he said looking confused. "I said, you have no idea what it's like, people don't just get like that for no reason, they do it because of some very bad scenario, for example they might get bullied a lot or they might get abused at home, and they aren't selfish, not everyone's parents actually listens to them, and sometimes it's difficult to just tell your family what you are going through, you just want to be heard, and when they think that there's nothing else to do, that the pain is too much to handle, they kill themselves so they can release themselves from the suffering," I explained. "But you used to be so hot before you did this to yourself and made yourself look horrible," he blurted out.