Flaws

Chapter 1: I Don't Care

Verity

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the ugliest of them all? An image of me appears on the mirror. I fake a gasp. Oh look, it's me, I'm the ugliest of them all. I bow to the mirror and lift back up with a smile on my face. Yep, I'm ugly and I'm proud. No one is uglier than me. If there was a trophy for ugliest person, then I would definitely get it. Ugly is my thing. I am the leader of the ugly. Dare I say goddess?

My two different colored eyes stare back at me. Ah, those ugly eyes. I have a love and hate relationship with them. My right eye is hazel while my left one is the color of Cream Soda. The eyes in the mirror travel up to my hair. Ah, another thing about myself I kind of love but also hate. My thick locks of hair are golden blonde that spiral into bouncy curls. It's too normal and almost pretty. But not pretty enough to distract the scars. The bullet that went into my head when I was seven years old is held responsible for the scars on my head from the surgery. My hair grew back but the left side of my forehead has a long thick scar that starts at the hairline and goes down to the very top of my pale eyebrow.

A diagonal scar on my chin starts at right underneath the middle of my full bottom lip and travels diagonally to the right side of my chin. To make matters worse I have this weird skin condition called vitiligo. My skin has a warm undertone where it's naturally yellow or gold, when I look at the veins on my wrists they are green, and has splotches of paleness over my body. On my face it's around my mouth, a few spots on my forehead, some on my cheeks and my whole chin.

At least I have cheekbones. They make me look slightly better and older. As a nineteen year old young woman, I look like a fifteen year old. My face looks so young. I'm not that short at five feet and five inches, so my height helps a little too. I get more pity looks than anything else because of how young I look.

That bullet caused me more than physical damage. The mental damage that I have to deal with for the rest of my life makes me want to just scream until my lungs collapse and then I die. There's so many things wrong with me. But I have to suck it up and deal with it.

Where was I? Oh yes, I was talking about my looks. I roll my eyes. Yes, I know, I'm such a girl. I also know it's very cliche of me for talking about how ugly I am. But I have legitimate reasons for calling myself ugly. I'm not some perfect Barbie that somehow doesn't realize how ethereal they are. Look at me. People give disgusted looks at me all of the time and can only stare for so long before their eyes burn from the ugliness. I'm looking in a mirror right now and all I see is a freak.

However, I will admit that I have one hot body. Like it's so perfect and Barbie like. Except I don't look anorexic with fake breasts. I enjoy food very much so I have lovely curves along with a great butt and above average-sized natural breasts, a small waist, and nicely toned arms and legs from all of the exercising I do. Especially running. I love to run. It's so freeing and clears my head. It's my own form of meditation. I work for this body. I don't just magically have this from not doing anything. Most of it could be from genetics, but not all of it. In conclusion, I have a sexy body and ugly face and skin. See, no one's perfect.

I wink at the girl in the mirror and twirl around to continue my run. Mirrors sure can be distracting. You don't want to look but you have to. You see one thing wrong and then another and another until you hate everything about yourself and start being sad again. For the rest of the day you try to avoid everyone and avoid looking at them. Happens to us all.

I keep at a burning pace as I pass the mirror in the window of the store. It's so beautiful in the city at night. The temperature is a little chilly and feels refreshing as I sweat like a fat man running a marathon. Yes, that's a very rude analogy but people need to stop being so sensitive. They need to take a joke once in a while. Life's too short to be serious all of the time. You gotta love life to the fullest. Which is why I'm running in the middle of the night naked. Yep, you heard me right, I'm flaunting this glorious body while I still can.

Nearly dying made me realize that spending every single second of your life should not be wasted. Every single second counts. It made me have courage. It gave me strength. Right now I'm a young woman running in the middle of the night naked and having the time of my life. I'd be happy getting shot at right now and dying on the cold ground because at least I knew there was a smile on my face as I left the earth. That's why I'm rebellious. That's why I'm hiding from the government. You notice how I'm not actually hiding? There's only one simple answer for that:

I don't care.

They can try to take me all they want. But they will never succeed. There's too much life in me.

At the cross walk I smirk as I slow down into a very slow jog, okay I'm walking, and take my time as go across. I whistle to fill the silence and shimmy my hips at the random tune. Oh how I love being naked in public. Why did they even invent clothes anyway? I see no point.

I leap like a ballerina and twirl and do dramatic poses with my flexibility. I laugh and nearly fall over at the sound of a car zooming towards me. Shiz on an extra cheesy cracker. I squeal and make a run for it. I fly through the road and back onto the sidewalk faster than lightning flashing during a very stormy night. My speed makes even the Flash jealous while a cheetah glares enviously from his side. I flip my hair and concentrate on not falling on my face. I only slow down a little after nearly five minutes of running around this very long sidewalk.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. It's the thrill of running away from the government and basically everyone that makes me enjoy every day more and more. If I get caught, then I die. Nothing I can do about it. Which is why I make things more exciting by sometimes purposefully bumping into a government officer and run away from him as he calls in backup, stealing food from restaurants while purposefully getting my face on camera, and lots of other fun things. It's all about the thrill.

I'm almost positive I'm the most wanted person in the state. World would be too egotistical of me to say. I only know that because there's posters of my face on them with the words Wanted Dead or Alive $500,000. I'm still mad that they only think I'm worth that little much. I should be worth at least a million.

Now, where to sleep tonight.

I debate for a few minutes and conclude that I'll just find my clothes and sleep in a tree. I kind of like to make people uncomfortable, so I wear the most revealing clothes I can find and eagerly watch their reactions. The reactions hurt but they're also funny. Some even look like they mistakenly drank a cup of freshly squeezed lemon juice for water. I don't have time to cry about what people think. I just find ways to enjoy the criticism.

Yep, this is my life. It's nowhere near perfect but at least I'm not miserable all of the time. You just have to make the best out of the worst.

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Just trust me and keep reading. You just have to be patient as the story develops. When I wrote the first paragraph, I knew people would roll their eyes and stops reading because the main character was being cliche and calling herself ugly. Well, this one has legitimate reasons that are understandable as she already stated.

The chapters will eventually get longer too. This one is the shortest or one of the shortest.

So, what's your favorite color?

Have any pets?

Have a beautiful day!!!🤗🍟💐