She Wanted to be Saved

Chapter 1

The dream was like a black hole. A black hole filled with deep purples and deep blues swirled together. Comfort and warmth surrounded my thoughts. Peace.

No voices, or pain, or hurt. Just black, blissful peace.

"MALORY!" The black hole swirled with the colours of reality. The bright golden rays of horror streamed out from my now open curtains. I cracked my eyes open to reveal my flustered, annoyed mother who stood at the end of my bed. Rosemary Thorne; my mum is a short, petite woman. Beautiful for her age. Definitely looked nothing like me. Where she had blonde, silky hair that reached her waist, I had blonde, frizzy hair that reached my belly button. Where she was model material skinny, I was curvy, with big hips although I lacked in the boob area. Her eyes were big and a striking blue that would send any middle-aged man crazy. Mine were a dull grey. Although my mum was stunning she was stubborn and always got what she wanted. I stood no chance.

I took one look at her, groaned and buried my head back into the soft, comforting pillow.

"Malory! Get up!" She ordered, "It's first day back and you're not missing it. Get up." With that she stormed out of the room muttering to herself about lazy teenagers.

I dragged my sorry ass out of bed. My feet met the cold floorboards as I slugged my way to my small bathroom. I was tempted to slip back into the peace and warmth I never wanted to leave but it wasn't worth angering mum on the first day. Maybe a little later into the week.

I slipped out of my oversized t-shirt and my favourite pair of long flannel pj bottoms. Revealing last night's destruction. The jagged red scars covered my upper thighs and hips. They were gonna sting like a bitch. Turning on the steaming shower only to find out we had no shampoo left. Ugh.

I managed to get my face in some sort of order, placing some foundation over the upcoming pimples, great. I applied a little eyeliner, mascara and wiped the access foundation from my lips. After all no one likes foundation lips, so not attractive. But then again I wasn't attractive full stop. I put my frizzy, long, blonde hair in a high ponytail. I slipped on a pair of skinny black jeans, a purple singlet, a grey hoodie and my favourite pair of black and white connies. I looked at myself in the full length mirror; couldn't have looked worse. I flinched. I hated the way my thighs touched and my collarbones hid beneath the layer of fat that covered my chest. My skin was pale and blotchy. The little red blotches that every teenager dreaded spread across my chest, back and face. I hated the way my arms looked like rolling pins rather than sticks and my stomach wasn't flat. The only thing that was flat were my boobs.

'Fatty'

'I promised I wouldn't be gone long darling, I'm here to stay.'

'You could lose a couple inches around your waist.'

'Ew, your thighs have gotten fatter.'

'Did you put on weight?'

'Ew you disgust me.'

I quickly turned away.

The feelings hit me, clutching at my stomach. I regained posture, plastered the fake smile on my face as my mother screamed, 'Malory! We are leaving now. Don't make me drag you to school!'

'Coming Mother dearest.' I shouted back.

I grabbed an apple on the way out. Mum didn't bother suggesting a proper breakfast, we were already late and I would have turned it down anyway. I so didn't want didn't want to go to that hellhole they claim to be school.