Chapter 1
The familiar burning liquid came up my throat and my stomach growled in pain as I threw up the dinner I just had. My eyes stung with tears and my throat ached begging me to stop but I knew I just had to go on, I needed this. Thirty minutes later, I shakily left the bathroom. I stopped and looked at the girl in my bedroom mirror then despite the pain, the weakness, the nausea, I smiled. I smiled because I was a few steps closer to being what I've always wanted to be, what I craved for; perfection
I curled myself on my bed and shut my eyes. I hated it. Making myself throw up, starving myself, I knew it wasn't right but nothing in life came easy right? Especially for a fat girl. I stared into the darkness picturing myself in my dream thin body. How did I get to this? A year ago my life was way different from this.
My name is Alyssa Ferrari but I'd rather be called Ally well Paris thinks it sounds better. Incase you haven't guessed yet, I'm Italian, I lived there for my first 13 years, the best and worst 13 years of my life. I was always the carefree optimistic girl who cared less about what anybody said. I had friends, real friends (not just people who smiled in my face yet threw daggers at my back), a perfect family and all in all life was great.
To be honest I was a chubby kid but it never really got in the way of letting me do the things I love or act the way I wanted that is until I was 12 years old and my dad started drinking. He'd come home late and get into arguments with my mom. I remember once my mom was out of town, my brothers were asleep I stayed up watching T.V when a loud crashing noise interrupted me. My chubby body got off the couch to inspect the noise and I met my dad stumbling as he struggled to get his shoes off.
"Alyssa!" he slurred "venire a prendere le scarpe" he ordered me to help him with his shoes. I fearfully did as he asked. "look at you, sei grasso come maiale" I looked up at the man I once looked up to, a man who'd always called me his little girl and all I saw didn't resemble him. His bloodshot red eyes represented weeks of intoxication and lack of sleep. He grabbed my chubby arm and ruthlessly hit me and insulted me all the insults basically said one thing, I was fat.
The abuse continued for a few days until my mom got back by then the scars were more visible and she was horrified they fought and lets just say, for a 12 year old it hurt a lot. I became an emotional eater and my confidence was ruined. I looked into the mirror one day and for the first time I didn't see the free-spirited girl I once was, all I saw was fat. I hated myself for overlooking all this for letting myself become this ugly. I lost my friends because of the depression I let myself slip in and on my 13th birthday my mom got a job transfer to London and honestly it was the best birthday gift I'd ever gotten, or so I thought
My dad didn't want to come. He'd made it pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with my mom or us my older brother chose to stay behind, no one bothered to change his mind we didn't really need the extra drama.
Fitting in was probably the worst part of any teenagers life especially for a fat girl. The new school had this horrible uniform which made me look like a baby hippo. What can I say I got picked on, bullied and tormented. If it wasn't about how fat I was, it was about my weird accent or my ugliness. Nothing seemed to please these people but I had to try and survive I couldn't go back to Italy or my dad so I did my best to change my accent, started using makeup and went on a few diets which barely worked but nothing pleased them. Not everyone in the hell they called school was cruel though, I found a group of misfits like me I guess, we weren't exactly close but at least I didn't eat lunch alone. Despite everything, I always had this empty lonely feeling inside that is until I met Paris.
Paris was a new girl one look at her and you'd know she's popular what was even more frightening was how she instantly fit in and took over the school. Her beautiful blond hair and emerald eyes and thin waistline were the stereotypical characteristics for a mean girl. Honestly immediately after she introduced herself to the class, I made a mental note to avoid her. Popular girls like her meant nothing but trouble. A few days later at gym I sat by myself mostly because no one chose me in their team as usual. Paris came and sat by me, I instantly got the message that I had to move. As I started to get up she stopped me "wait, where are you going?" she smiled "surely I'm not that scary or repulsive" I hesitantly sat back down we started talking and I realized we had so much more in common.
Despite the perfection and glow that Paris seemed to have, she was just as lonely as me. Paris made me feel like I actually had a friend not like the misfit group I hung out with. Soon enough, we were sharing secrets and having sleepovers I even sat with her group at lunch sometimes. It really pissed them off I knew it did but they couldn't object to Paris's decisions.they would just ignore me but I preferred that than being bullied. Life was going great and for the first time ever I loved my life but soon enough, I found out Paris's dark side.
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BITTER SWEET PERFECTION (ON HOLD)
Teen Fictionwhat is perfection? and why do we really want it so badly? how far would you go to stop the hurt, the insecurity, and the pain of your past? this is Alyssa's story. all she ever wanted was to be told she was beautiful, to walk down the street withou...