The story starts with a girl, she's roughly around the age twelve. She's kind of on the plus size. She goes to school, it's her first day in the seventh grade. She walks in her class and sits at her seat. A boy walks up to her, smacking his gum , and says "damn girl, do you lift weights ?" The class roars with laughter, the little girl shamefully hides her arms till the end of the day. When the bus pulls up to her stop, she gets of and runs to her house,crying. It's winter now and the girl puts on a jacket. She realizes that no one makes fun of her when she wears a jacket, so she continues to wear it. Fall passes, so does winter. Now it's spring then it's summer. She never takes off the jacket. Her mom usually washes clothes on Sunday, but she had forgotten. So she washes the girls clothes on the following morning. The was frightened, she could not find her jacket. It's her first day into the 8th grade and she has nothing to cover her arms. She sat in her room, afraid to leave for school. But then her brother walks in, "why are you crying?" He asks. She looks at him and asks, "are my arms fat?" Her brother giggles. "Why does it matter? They're arms be happy you have some weather they're fat or not." The girl wipes her tears and chuckles, "you're right" She goes to school and walks into class, not caring about her arms. she sat down at her seat, and the same little boy came up to her and said "damn girl, do you lift weights?" The class laughs, the boy gives his friend a high five. Another kid shouts, "how much can you bench?" Kids still laughing, "I bet more than 500" says another little boy. The class was dying of laughter. The girl puts her head down and cries to herself. When she gets home she runs to her room and looks into her mirror. "Why are my arms so fat?" She starts to cry harder, she takes her mirror and throws it on the floor. Glass shatters, she picks a piece up and puts it against her wrist. She cuts, tears fall down her cheek and collides with the blood. "This hurts to much" she says to herself. So she runs to the kitchen and searches through the medicine cabinet. She finds her brothers sleeping pills and takes one. She try's to swallow It, but she can't. She try's again, then she spits it up. Eventually she's swallows it. Then she takes three more, then five, then nine. Afterwards she runs to the laundry room and grabs her jacket out of the dryer. She walks back to her room crying. She lays down, tired, and holds her jacket in her arm and closes her eyes. She never opened them again.
People would expect me to write about how the girl would walk in, after her brother talks to her, and be confident and strong. But it doesn't work that way. Positive words can't completely change someone's perspective of them selves. Hurtful words have a bigger effect than hopeful words.
