To the horizontally challenged

I've always wondered what people would say at my funeral.

Would they cry and tell their memories of me or would they sit in silence thinking the worse.

Would anyone show up at all?

I closed my eyes for the last time hoping someone would shed a tear, maybe shake my lifeless body and beg me to wake up again.

4 weeks before the incident

The alarm blared loudly into my ears "stupid fucking alarm" I picked it up and threw it at my wall. This is the 3rd alarm clock this week to meet its demise.

I hate mornings.

My name is Blaire Conway and I'm 16 years old, I am quite pale with brown hair and brown eyes. I wouldn't say I'm someone worth glancing at a first or second time. I am paper thin which seems to have a negative affect, I'm on the other end of fat shaming, instead I get called things like scrawny, raw boned or my favourite "horizontally challenged."

You'd think horizontally challenged is for fat people but I guess it means me too. A paper thin horizontally challenged person with a low self esteem.

It bothers me, it bothers me a lot. I pretend it doesn't when I'm face to face with the bitchy girls at school but I'm only human. Im not like other girls and not in a good way or a pick me way. I don't stand out in a crowd, I don't do social media and I hate people. Other sixteen year olds around me are all are entrenched in a social world that includes friendships and romantic relationships and I prefer to be alone. Maybe not out of choice anymore but I do find comfort in my isolation.

From an outsiders perspective I reek of loneliness. If I could describe myself as an animal it would be a moose. Moose are very solitary animals and don't travel in packs. That describes me perfectly. I'm a sad creature, prone to a habit and has no friends to turn to.

That is who Blaire Conway is. A horizontally challenged moose.