Am I Pretty Yet?
ugly
Can things get any worst?
Every morning starts exactly the same. She finds herself walking into her math class, hating it with every fiber of her being. She sits there and wallows in her self-loathing. She can even feel her own teacher pitying her. In fact, every student in that class stares at her with the exact same pity she feels when she stares into the mirror.
She feels so pathetic. She never knew anyone could hate themselves this much.
But it isn’t until first period is over that she realizes that, indeed, things can get worst. The second the bell rings, a groan escapes her lips. She knows what class is to follow and she knows that it is every Fat Girl’s worst nightmare.
Gym class.
Gym, to every Fat Person, is like the Universe’s way of slapping them in the face, reminding them of how out of shape they are. It is the Universe’s way of saying, ‘hey, you see that attractive, young teenager running laps around you over and over again? Yeah. That will never be you, fat ass.’
The Universe had a funny way of poking fun at it’s inhabitants.
She doesn’t laugh along with the Universe as she walks into the locker room. She chose a locker all the way at the very end, away from all the pretty, skinny girls. They all suck, she thinks to herself as she slowly takes her clothing off. She feels disgusting. Not wanting to be in her drawers for too long, she quickly slides on her P.E. shorts, and tightly squeezes into the ugly, navy blue t-shirt with the ugly school logo on the front. Everything on her was just ugly.
“Mikaela Evans,” her gym teacher added with a tsk, tsk, tsk and a head nod, “late for class again.”
She rolled her eyes in annoyance. Did it matter? As long as she showed up to this godforsaken class, what difference would it make? And plus, Mrs. Stiller wasn’t the one that was going to run laps for Mikaela. As long as she showed up, her tardiness should not even matter to anybody.
Today was running day. Mikaela’s least favorite day. All the star athlete’s always shined just as bright as the stars they were. Mikaela was more like a burnt-out light bulb. She hated gym. She hated this class with a passion. However, her hate was no stronger than the hate she felt for herself.
Every morning starts exactly the same. She finds herself walking into her math class, hating it with every fiber of her being. She sits there and wallows in her self-loathing. She can even feel her own teacher pitying her. In fact, every student in that class stares at her with the exact same pity she feels when she stares into the mirror.
She feels so pathetic. She never knew anyone could hate themselves this much.
But it isn’t until first period is over that she realizes that, indeed, things can get worst. The second the bell rings, a groan escapes her lips. She knows what class is to follow and she knows that it is every Fat Girl’s worst nightmare.
Gym class.
Gym, to every Fat Person, is like the Universe’s way of slapping them in the face, reminding them of how out of shape they are. It is the Universe’s way of saying, ‘hey, you see that attractive, young teenager running laps around you over and over again? Yeah. That will never be you, fat ass.’
The Universe had a funny way of poking fun at it’s inhabitants.
She doesn’t laugh along with the Universe as she walks into the locker room. She chose a locker all the way at the very end, away from all the pretty, skinny girls. They all suck, she thinks to herself as she slowly takes her clothing off. She feels disgusting. Not wanting to be in her drawers for too long, she quickly slides on her P.E. shorts, and tightly squeezes into the ugly, navy blue t-shirt with the ugly school logo on the front. Everything on her was just ugly.
“Mikaela Evans,” her gym teacher added with a tsk, tsk, tsk and a head nod, “late for class again.”
She rolled her eyes in annoyance. Did it matter? As long as she showed up to this godforsaken class, what difference would it make? And plus, Mrs. Stiller wasn’t the one that was going to run laps for Mikaela. As long as she showed up, her tardiness should not even matter to anybody.
Today was running day. Mikaela’s least favorite day. All the star athlete’s always shined just as bright as the stars they were. Mikaela was more like a burnt-out light bulb. She hated gym. She hated this class with a passion. However, her hate was no stronger than the hate she felt for herself.