I wake up to the constant beeping of my alarm clock. Rolling over to smack it to snooze for a few more minutes, I realize that I'm later than usual. I jump and run to grab some clothes out of my closet. No, no, no, runs through my mind looking at various shirts and pants. Finally, I grab an outfit, my favorite One Direction t-shirt, a flannel shirt tied around my waist, ripped skinny jeans, and my white high top converse. After I slip it on, I look in the mirror and my smile fades.
I have never been considered pretty. I'm a little overweight, and I absolutely hate my body. My family tells me I'm just curvy, Meagan Tainor calls it having bass, but I call it ugly and unattractive. Even though my few friends tell me I'm not fat and I'm beautiful, I will never believe them. My whole family has been overweight for as long as I remember. I want to change and loose weight more than anything, but I don't have the support system I need. Whenever loosing weight is brought up at my house, it is laughed off like it is no big deal. My parents don't have to deal with public school bullies and perfect little mean girls, so they continue eating and cooking fried, unhealthy junk food that is very hard for me to resist. A perfect example of a disadvantage of living in the South, along with being considered uneducated. It seems everytime I try to eat a little better, after about 3 days, I give in and take just one bite of a cupcake or maybe an oatmeal cream pie. Eventually I have eaten the whole thing and possibly another. I began to crave the unhealthy foods again, and I as eat I realize I have yet again failed.
After I pop my contacts in, put on a little makeup, and run a brush through my naturally straight hair, I fly down the stairs. I make a mental checklist of various things I would need for the day. Backpack, check. Lunchbox, check. Keys, check. Perfect. Stumbling out the door, I hop in my cobalt blue doodle bug. Even though I'm running late, I take the time to flip through and pick out a CD. Finding my One Direction Made in the A.M. , I place it in the radio and pull out of my driveway. I always start my day with music, usually One Direction. It always seems to make me happy to just relax and sing along. I don't consider myself a good singer, but I can sing some. At church, I sing a special from time to time but that's it. Just as one of my favorite songs, "If I Could Fly," comes on, I pull in the school student parking lot. Crap. I know there's only 3 minutes left in homeroom, and if I don't start walking now, I'll have to go to the main office for a tardy slip. Reluctantly, I turn off the key just as Harry was finishing his part of the first verse and make my way toward homeroom.
As I walk I immediately began to dread my day. I mean don't get me wrong, it is Friday, and I'm very thankful for that, but that also means I have test in every class, which I did not study for. Last night I knew I had to study, but YouTube may have distracted me a little. I can not resist watching a few One Direction interviews and music videos. Many people think I'm crazy because they are on a break. Some say they are never making a comeback, but I have faith in my favorite band.
I know my hardest test will be 2nd block Geometry. Trapezoids and kites race through my mind as I walk. I know that I won't completely fail the test. If someone asked me what I was good at, the only answer I could come up with would be school. Honestly, that's it. I'm a straight A student and at the top of the class. All my teachers love me, but I can't say the same for the students.
From the time I was little until high school I was a part of this little group of friends. We had some of the best times together, but as everyone got older and teenage girl hormones kicked in around junior high, everything went downhill. It seemed everyone in the group of 6 turned on each other and separated. I had never been the one to start drama, but when it came about, I always seemed to be the middle man. Since the group split, 2 girls against the other 3 and me in the middle, I would be like the drama messenger. When one group would say something about the other, I would run and tell, and vice versa. Soon, they realized what I was doing and both groups dropped me. I finally realized if you let stuff go in one ear and out the other it was pretty easy to be drama free. By the time I had gotten to high school, I knew how to be friendly to everyone and remain drama free. I didn't go back to either group, because to this day all they talk about is each other or other people, which I hate. Once I learned who and how to trust, I found my best friend Laura.
Laura moved to my school around the middle of our 8th grade year. By that time, I was about put up with all the drama, so I tried to talk to her a little. She was the shyest person I knew at the time. You could forget having a decent conversation with her. Needing a friend, I talked to her every day. I even sat with her at lunch, even though it was mostly silent unless I did all the talking. Little by little, I cracked her shell, and she opened up to me. Now, we are never apart. She later told me that she was bullied all the time at her old school and she had many thoughts of selfharm and suicide, but she said I reminded her that there was still good people in the world.
Finally, I make it to the school building just as the bell rings. I trudge the rest of the way to homeroom to let my teacher know I'm here. Placing my hand on the door, I think to myself here goes nothing.
Authors Note:
This is my first story and I hope you like it! Please comment what ya think! And vote if you like it.
