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People will never really get how hard it is to be ugly. People online, family, keep saying “looks don't matter and blah blah blah all that shit”, but they clearly don’t know what it's like to be the one actually ugly! Hideous even! Chubby face that only makes sense on a kindergartner, braces, the ones with thick rectangles of metal, a pair of thick glasses to match the bracelets, cheeks that are always flushed red no matter what I do and to top it all all, I’m short! Like really fucking short. Seriously I need help reaching high shit all the time. And I can barely see things because my eyes are for some reason slanted downwards, so I always cover them with my brown hair- And people keep making fun of me for it! I feel humiliated all the time! Because, yeah, looks matter. And I hate it. I swear I would kill for good looks.
Oh yeah did I mention? I’m not only ugly, I’m also poor! Because I guess god is just another person on the list of the people who hate me.
The only people who actually care about me are my family, (though I think they like my sister more.), and my friends. Or as others call us, the “freaks”, the “losers”, the “emos”, the “fags”. Yeah. And I’m neither emo or gay!
As you probably guessed, my friends are on the same level as me in the school hierarchy. The bottom. Rock bottom. I mean there was this one friend of mine, and yeah I’m not going to lie I did find him pretty, but not in a gay way! He probably just was my friend because he pitied me or something. He moved to another town a long time ago.
It was another shitty day. The sun was rising or whatever people normally write. My alarm clock is loud. But I knew if I didn’t have it that loud I wouldn’t hear it and would be late for school. I mean I am usually late for school but that’s irrelevant.
I drag myself out of the bed, getting my glass from somewhere on top of my hill of stuff on my bedside table. I knew mom would be mad at me for letting it get so messy, but it’s not my fault! I suck at cleaning! I don’t know where to put it so I just throw it in my room. I’ll clean it one day anyways. Plus it’s my room, I can do what I want!
Anyways back to the topic. I get dressed and stuff, say goodbye to my family before heading to school. Walking alone, like usual because my friends walk another path to school.
As I tried to admire the impossible to admire path, a group of girls walked past. My heart sank, it was one of those groups who made fun of me. One of them noticed me, and I could see their gaze glide from my face to my sweater I was wearing, and whispered something to the others, making them all laugh. Hahah soooooo funny Jessica. Not everyone has clothes that cost an arm and a leg, some people have to make do with a simple sweater, even if it may have a noticeable stain on it. I give her the finger but none look back at me