Rosiana Teriitanoa

I wake up to the sun gleaming straight through the blinds and lay atop of my face that's accompanied with the salty taste that lingers at the tip of my tongue. Tears that previously fell from last night's feud only to be evaporated by the last sunshine left in this world. Screaming. Screaming for dear life, waiting for him to take it away from me yet I hold on. Hold on to that last piece of hope while he chokes on his pride. His touch, his violent touch left marks on the curve of my waist and I can barely look at it without reliving the moment and pain. Agonizing pain. 

I got bored so here's a short story:
          I stare at my reflection with a blank expression. Imperfections. Analyzing every curve and  structure in my body in utter disgust. Imperfections. I look back at the pile of Vogue magazines featuring wide hips and clear skin. Perfection. I compare it with my chubby legs and large waist I release my light grip on my shirt to get hold of my phone. I begin taking photos of myself starting with one angle to the other, still looking appalling in every single one of them. Using an editor I found in an advert, I begin with my waist, making it as thin as the girl on the magazine. After spending hours perfecting my master peice I start to feel satisfied so I lower my finger over the 'post' button and watch the likes come in one by one. 5, 28, 46, 92, 1,068. I get acknowledged from randoms in which I don't remember following. " You're so beautiful" they say. I'm only visible under the heavy editing yet I still stay unnoticed behind the luminous screen that society worships. This is who I am. Still. Imperfect. 
          
          (P.S soz for longg post and my lazy writing/ story, it's 11:59pm and I'm worn out so don't judge, also couldn't post on bio Bc of limit).