Days Of Pain

“Fucking tits”, I murmured, staring sideways into the mirror. The sports bras did depressingly little to flatten out your chest, even with three layered on top of one another. But there was no way in hell I could afford a binder, so for now this was the best I could do. Besides, if I wore baggy enough t-shirts, maybe people would ignore my, you know, ‘assets’. I glare at my reflection eventually settled on the offending region on my body and I felt that little twinge, alright, maybe not little, that I knew would turn up at moments like this.