Writing Prompts (Over One Hundred)

Writing Prompt 80

Stories always say "water ran down her cheeks and she couldn't tell if it was rain or tears, or maybe both." Or they say the same thing about the shower. They're lying.

I found out when I stepped into the shower. I was on the verge of crying, little tremors shook my lip. I grabbed the coconut oil off the counter, ready to put it to good use shaving.

I almost dropped it, though. My breath came in gasps, my stuffy nose not helping. I began to sob, to weep. Water from the shower head splashed all over me. I cried. I cried as I remembered, the girls who ignored me. Seven lonely days away from home, ignored eighty percent of the time. Remembering trying to include myself, remembering trying to talk, remembering being ignored. Questions asked thrice, questions never thrice answered. Lonely.

But at least I could tell the difference between tears and water. My tears were hot in my skin, the shower water cold. I forced myself to keep my hand steady as I shaved my legs, but it was hard. I could barely see. I began to sob in hiccup, in shallow breaths. I clapped a hand over my mouth, forcing myself to calm.

I didn't want anyone to hear me. I ran my hands over my face, rubbing my mascara away. My fingers came back black. That's how my mood felt, too.

I remember one time a girl decided not to ignore me. I almost burst into tears. It was pathetic. They were just girls, and I another girl.

I wondered sometimes if I were gorgeous would they accept me? Would they stop ignoring me? But no, I always dismissed the idea, because I knew I'd never be good enough for themselves after all, if only been at this school for two years and them nine years. I couldn't compare.

Hot tears prickled my face and I ran the shampoo over my scalp. I skipped the conditioner, my hair didn't need to look as limp as the rest of me.

I nearly bent over in wracking sobs, clutching at my stomach. The sadness came in waves. I remembered more stuff, even sadder stuff. I remember a ball hitting me in the face. It was an accident, that was true. But it hit me in the nose, I began to cry, and it was a relief. I had already had tears building up behind my eyes and it was a release. Otherwise I would've been bawling in the court.

I masked my pain well, hiding away, reading Wattpad on my phone. I pretended I didn't need them.

But my confidence had taken a blow. I was insecure. Before that, I had always fancied myself strong. Confident and happy. But then I just became insecure. I was never sure of myself. Not anymore.

It became easier to not be sad after that, because I had learned not to let my emotions show through. Emotion being shown was weak.

But for now I would cry. I reached past the shower curtain, grabbing my towel. I dried off slowly, still crying.

My breath was labored. My nose was stuffy. I kept my eyes away from the mirror. I didn't want to see the puffy eyes yet. I got dressed, then I turned.

I turned to the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and puffy. But it was strange, because when I cried I was more beautiful than when I didn't. My eyes turned greener, and my skin turned paler. It was sad.

I blew my nose and headed to bed. I brushed my teeth first, though. And then I got in bed, and settled under my pile of blankets. I loved fuzzy blankets.

Then I masked my emotions again. Always hiding behind a mask of happiness. Never letting people know how you actually feel. Never letting them know just how much it hurts to be ignored.

Why am I so good at including people? Because I'm never included. When I see someone with the same struggle I make sure they don't feel left out. I'd never want anyone to feel the same way I do.

Take it from here!

Thanks for reading, folks! I stayed up till four a.m. Night before last, and then two thirty a.m. Last night, and now it's almost two. Bad idea, folks. Thanks for reading, though!

Payton Janae :).