Fat Girl
they're surely not
During the younger years, such as kindergarten through grade three, it’s cute to be fat.
Of course at this age, they always deem this “chubby”. It’s an adorable “chubby” though, and people coo at the sight, maternal instincts consuming them and the urge to pinch cheeks unbearable. Unfortunately, growing older is inevitable. When fourth and fifth grade roll around, that endearing trait turns to one of disgust.
A person is only allowed to be fat for so long.
Those years are the ones where everyone shares and plays with everyone else, for there are no such things as ugly or fat or unpopular. Clothes are to make sure you're not naked and hair only gets in the way. There are only blocks and dolls and race cars, cute little bows and scuffed up knees. These were the times when Monica actually played along side Bianca, and many others for that fact.
But all that had been long forgotten. Fat isn't cute anymore.
“Hi Monica,” Bianca coos, a delicious grin painted across her face.
Light brown hair and bright blue eyes, skinny. A toothy smile like a shark eyeing it's prey.
“Hey Bianca,” Monica replies, refusing to meet her conniving gaze. The sandwich slathered with Nutella in her backpack feels heavier.
The girl allows a giggle to tumble from her lips. Oh how funny, Fat Girl can talk.
“I was just wondering if you’d seen Matt anywhere, is he lost in there by some chance?”
She cracks a grin as if it’s all in good fun, delighted eyes falling onto the round stomach that Monica nursed daily. Because it's all in good fun, of course it is.
Hands lift to mouths but the laughter spills through, echoing through her mind like knives. Driving further and digging deeper. Just jokes, Fat Girl. Don’t take things so seriously.
“Oh," she pauses to force a laugh, "no I haven’t.”
Monica smiles as if they're laughing with her, but they're surely not. No one laughs along side her, she simply takes up too much space for that.
Civil smiles, tight and polite, restraining the tears that are threatening, pricking at her eyes with amusement. Even they want to see Fat Girl cry. Everyone does.
But once again, she disappoints. She won't give them the satisfaction.
Is she strong? Surely not, but who doesn't love a good game of pretend?
Of course at this age, they always deem this “chubby”. It’s an adorable “chubby” though, and people coo at the sight, maternal instincts consuming them and the urge to pinch cheeks unbearable. Unfortunately, growing older is inevitable. When fourth and fifth grade roll around, that endearing trait turns to one of disgust.
A person is only allowed to be fat for so long.
Those years are the ones where everyone shares and plays with everyone else, for there are no such things as ugly or fat or unpopular. Clothes are to make sure you're not naked and hair only gets in the way. There are only blocks and dolls and race cars, cute little bows and scuffed up knees. These were the times when Monica actually played along side Bianca, and many others for that fact.
But all that had been long forgotten. Fat isn't cute anymore.
“Hi Monica,” Bianca coos, a delicious grin painted across her face.
Light brown hair and bright blue eyes, skinny. A toothy smile like a shark eyeing it's prey.
“Hey Bianca,” Monica replies, refusing to meet her conniving gaze. The sandwich slathered with Nutella in her backpack feels heavier.
The girl allows a giggle to tumble from her lips. Oh how funny, Fat Girl can talk.
“I was just wondering if you’d seen Matt anywhere, is he lost in there by some chance?”
She cracks a grin as if it’s all in good fun, delighted eyes falling onto the round stomach that Monica nursed daily. Because it's all in good fun, of course it is.
Hands lift to mouths but the laughter spills through, echoing through her mind like knives. Driving further and digging deeper. Just jokes, Fat Girl. Don’t take things so seriously.
“Oh," she pauses to force a laugh, "no I haven’t.”
Monica smiles as if they're laughing with her, but they're surely not. No one laughs along side her, she simply takes up too much space for that.
Civil smiles, tight and polite, restraining the tears that are threatening, pricking at her eyes with amusement. Even they want to see Fat Girl cry. Everyone does.
But once again, she disappoints. She won't give them the satisfaction.
Is she strong? Surely not, but who doesn't love a good game of pretend?
♠ ♠ ♠
oheyder.Basically, I'm gonna be honest, I'm not going to try and make this the best story ever written. This is more for my own amusement, more than anything. So, yeah, if it sucks... oh well. :D