My Only Hope

Chapter 3

After lunch, I told mom and dad why I ran home and who the kids were who were saying mean things about me. They understood. That's one of the reasons I loved my parents more than I loved anyone else, because no one understood what I was going through but them. Although, sometimes they couldn't grab ahold of how bad I actually felt. After I explained everything to mom and dad, I made a decision for myself.

"Can one of you drive me to the store? There's something I really want to buy." I asked confidently.

"Your mom has to work, and I don't work until this evening. I could take you." dad suggested.

"Thanks, dad. Let me change real quick." I ran upstairs and changed, then rushed back downstairs.

"Come on, beautiful." that was dad's "nickname" for me ever since the bullying started.

We got in the car, and off we went.

"Dad?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Why do people keep telling me I don't look normal? I look like everyone else, I'm just not as pretty, and I'm fat."

Dad sighed.

"Kasey, you are beautiful, and you may not be as skinny as everyone else, but that does not mean you are fat. Kids these days are just cruel, and they don't know a beautiful girl when they see one."

"Thanks, dad, but I know that's not true." I told him.

"It is true, or I would not have said it. You are beautiful."

I didn't reply. There was silence the rest of the way there.
* * *
I walked to the beauty aisle. I looked at the makeup and picked out lipgloss, the same kind I saw on a TV commercial the other day. I looked at the mascara and picked out one that had different colors. Dad came to the aisle I was standing in.

"Almost done?" he asked.

"Yes, give me one second." I replied. I picked up dark red lipstick and three colors of nail polish, then checked out and we left. On the way home, dad got suspicious of what I bought.

"What did you buy? You checked out too fast for me to look." he questioned.

"Oh, just some makeup. Nothing big."

Dad looked at my bag and saw how much I bought. I knew he was going to tell mom I bought a lot of makeup, I just felt it.
* * *
When we got home, I went straight to my room and put some makeup on, not that much, just a little bit to make me look prettier. I came out of my room to two parents looking at me with concern.

"Kasey, I would like to see what you bought at the store." mom said in a gentle voice.

"Okay." I went back in my room and closed the door and locked it. Mom and dad thought I was going to come back out with the makeup I bought, but they thought wrong. I was staying in my room until I thought the topic was off of their minds. But then I realized what I had done. Was that disobeying? I mean, she didn't tell me to, she said she would like to. Ugh. I thought. I felt awful, like I had done something wrong. I finally gave into my conscience and came out of my room with the bag of makeup I bought. I handed it to mom, and she slowly opened the bag, and they both glanced into it, eyes wide open.

"Why did you buy so much of this?" dad asked.

"Because." I felt my eyes watering up. Everything was becoming a blur.

"Because why?" mom looked at me strictly.

"Because I'm not beautiful, like you guys always say." I tried to hold back the tears, but from the way my voice sounded when I said that, mom and dad knew I was about to cry.

"You are gorgeous, Kasey. No matter what anyone else says." mom comforted me.

"I'm not." I tried to snatch the bag from mom's hands, but she pulled it away.

"I'm sorry, Kasey, but I'm not letting you keep this. All I will let you have is a bottle of nail polish and the lipgloss. I don't want you to depend on this to feel beautiful. I'm not letting you go through life feeling like you have to wear this to be pretty, I want you to feel like the beautiful person you are. And you will, once I go down to that school and stop all of this." mom took out the lightest color of nail polish and the lipgloss out of the bag and handed it to me, then she and dad went to the kitchen. I sighed and went back into my room, lied down on my bed, and hoped tomorrow would be a better day, but then I remembered. My sister, Christina, was coming into town tomorrow. She was the "perfect" sister, and I was the one that got shoved out of the picture. Everyone always talked about how beautiful Christina was and how athletic and smart she was. She was tall, with long, red hair and natural waves. She had green eyes, and a perfectly shaped nose. She was my idea of perfect. Guys would literally drool over her. Sometimes, I wished I was Christina, and then I wouldn't have to live this life of sadness and name calling.