Alone

Alone. That's my description. Alone. When people describe about themselves, they talk about relationships, what they look like, and what trendy things they like. But I like to keep it simple. Alone. The one word I use in my notebook. My mother gave it to me so I can put down my feelings for my therapist. Which he doesn't like it. He says how it's not useful for him if he only knows one thing about me. But it's not the type of alone where you have no friends or family. I have plenty of those. At school I'm well known for my photography and my music. And my family loves me. The alone I'm talking about is how I'm the only one with the wrong body.

'Ok, act natural' I look at the mirror, my bandages tight against my chest, where I could barely breath. 'Just like the website said. Nice and tight' I frown at myself at how pathetic I look. My golden blonde hair shined against the LED light above the mirror. It went just past my shoulders and had a natural wave to it. My eyes were hazel with a hint of blue, which made them sparkle. 'Stupid girly looks' my wish would to get a new body where I didn't have to have long hair and boobs. A guys body would fit nicely with me. But no, I'm the unlucky one in my family. The only one who hates their own body. I look back at myself "time for school" I sighed. I get my plain black t-shirt on then put on my light gray beanie that has a few purple starts on it. I walk out of the bathroom, avoiding the kitchen so I didn't have to deal with my family, and grabs my backpack before I slammed the front door shut behind me.