Lams oneshots

Pretty

(Depressing content... skip if you don't want to cry)

Trigger warning!

John's P.O.V.

I'm ugly.
I am a nobody.
Some people acknowledge my existence...
Only few know my name.
But Nobody cares.

I cry into my pillow every night. Tears stain my pillow and I go to school with red puffy eyes.

Am I pretty yet?

Alex has been my best friend for 3 years. But he'll never see me as anything else than a friend. He always tells me how good I am at drawing, and singing, and just about everything under the sun... but he's never told me I'm pretty. So I'm not.

Am I not pretty enough?

For homecoming He took Elizabeth Schuyler. She is beautiful with her long silky brown hair and pastel skin. Why can't I look like her? She is super popular and probably is the nicest too. Not to mention she is my friend. I could never take away what she deserves. I love Alex, but I love our friendship even more. He doesn't even notice me when Eliza's around.

Why can't I just be Pretty?

I sat on my bathroom floor, staring at myself in the mirror. Does he think freckles are ugly? Am i too fat? Is my hair too long? Am i not curvy enough? Am i just not good enough for him? I took the scissors from on the counter and hacked away the curly hair that went down to my back. Chestnut curls fell to the floor as I cried and cut. When I took the scissors away, my hair was all chopped up and lopsided on one side. I fixed it so that it wasn't lopsided anymore and looked again. It no longer fell down my back, it barely touched my shoulders now. I stared at the pile of curls on the floor next to me, and chucked the scissors at the wall, cutting my hand in the process. I had blurry, puffy, red, tear-stained eyes.

Am I pretty now?

The next day I went to school in a lavender cardigan and navy skinny jeans. My eyes were red as always. I walked up to Alex as he was drinking some water. When he turned around, he jumped in surprise. "John... your hair..." He said in surprise. "Don't look at it. It's disgusting I know." I said quietly. He looked even more surprised than he did before. "What? No! It's just- I know how much your hair means to you, I never thought you wanted to cut it." He said, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. I looked down. "I hate it. I can't do anything right, not even cutting my own hair." I was disgusted in myself. There was never a moment where I just wanted to dissapear more. "I'll just go. Sorry for bothering you." Sorry for existing. I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my arm. "Wait, YOU did THIS?" He asked, his jaw dropped. I stayed silent. "I didn't know you could do this so good!" He exclaimed. "I don't understand..." I said. "John, it's BEAUTIFUL!" He cried. I stared at him in shock.

Beautiful?

"How can you say that? It looks like I put my head in a blender and turned it on. I don't see how you can find that Beautiful." I said. I tried to walk away, but he grabbed my arm again. "I don't see how you DON'T find this beautiful. " he said, running his hands through the freshly cut hair. I didn't know what to say, so I stayed silent. "Follow me." He dragged me to the male bathroom and stood me in front of the sink. "Now look." He stood next to me and pointed at the mirror. I looked up at the dusty school mirrors and saw the curly bob I had created. I didn't see it before, but my hair did actually look nice. I looked back down at the floor. "Its ugly. I'm not pretty..." I mumbled. "Your not... what? How can you say that?" He came up to me again and brushed a strand of stray hair behind my ears. "Are you worrying about how pretty you are?" He asked. I bit my lip and nodded my head slowly. "You don't have anything to worry about. You don't have to be pretty." He started. I looked back at him. "You don't have to fix your hair, or starve yourself to be skinny, or put on makeup to be pretty. "Pretty" isn't being skinny, or have perfect features, or flawless skin, or perfect hair. Although if that was the case, your gorgeous already!" I blushed, but kept listening to what he was saying. "Being... beautiful... is being kind and loving to others, not judging people, just being yourself in general. You can have to most perfect outfit and absolute perfect hair, and flawless features, and you still won't be "Pretty" if you have a bad personality. You John, are amazing at litterally everything thrown at you, you have the kindest, gentle, loving heart I've ever seen. Honestly... your the most beautiful person I've ever met." When he said that, my heart melted. Tears were threatening to spill out of my eyes. "So just be who you are, and you'll always be pretty. No amount of chopping, or plastering on makeup, could make anyone as pretty as you." He finished with a smile. I couldnt stop the tears from running down my face. That was the first time he ever said I was pretty. He must've seen the tears, because he wrapped his strong arms around me and let me melt into him. I don't know why I was crying, but I guess it was because he called me pretty.