*Andrea's P.O.V*
I woke up with a sense of horrible anguish. No, I wasn't on my period. I just hate school and it's Monday.
I hate school for a few reasons.
One: the teachers hate me and think I'm stupid (because I'm fat)
Two: everyone ignores me (which isn't bad, but sometimes it hurts me)
Three: as see from two I have no friends (none)
So I crawl out of bed, take a shower while scorning myself because nobody will care, get dressed, and do the necessary things in a daily routine.
But in my routine, I eat. Yes, I don't try to loose weight, what's the point. Nobody cares if I will, so I won't.
I slowly walk, or shuffle may I say, to school which is only a few block away.
I step into school and sigh, trying to find the reason why I even come here. I yeah, because it's the law. I go to my locker and start putting the lock in.
I get a paper ball to the head. How I now this is because I get them every day. This one probably says 'fatty' or 'loose some weight' or something sly. I open in with my pudgy fingers and read: 'Loose some weight you hippo' I sigh a murmur "Thanks bitches" as I crumple the paper into a ball and throw it at the floor. The janitor will clean it up later.
I walk to class and step into the room just as the bell rings. I take my usual seat in the back and don't make eye contact with anyone.
This.
Is.
Torture.
***
If we had to write about our favorite period in school, I would write about lunch. Lunch I like because everyone is eating around me, and I can indulge in my own food without looking like a complete idiot.
I also like it because nobody stares at my body.
There's more to just what's on the outside.
So, I sit by myself, in the middle of the cafeteria, alone. I have a whole table to myself which I think is cool. Nobody talks to me unless they have to, which is also awesome.
Me alone with my thoughts is awesome. Not.
I just want to leave this hell and go home.
***
I step off the bus, or yellow oven on wheels. It's so hot in that thing, and that's not because I'm in it.
I take my key out of my pocket. I slowly unlock the door, step inside, and close it. I walk down the hall, take a left and close the door. Finally, I'm in my room.
Now I can text my internet friend. And check my YouTube.
YOU ARE READING
Metamorphosis
Teen Fiction"You'll never be pretty enough" That's what Andrea thinks whenever she wakes up. That's because she's called a three letter word, one three letter word that stings and stabs her every single day. Fat. Sure she's 200 pounds. But that doesn't matte...
