I wish I could disappear, just go off into a far away land and never return. I'm tired of the whispers they don't think I hear, and the constant staring and laughing. I know that I am not perfect, and I know that I am not a supermodel. I know that I am fat. I know that Little Debbie is the only friend I really have. Even then I'm not sure Little Debbie is really my friend. All these awful facts make me claw at my skin and create the most prominent of scars. My family tells me that it couldn't hurt to lose a few pounds. Don't they think I know that? The red streaks that mark my wrist prove this.
