Please, Please fit.
The button refuses to align with it's partner, the zipper slides down back to the bottom, destroying all the effort I had made in the ten minutes I resided in this tiny change room. It wouldn't fit, it was useless to try, it just wouldn't.
" Hey, Are you done?"
Katie bangs at the door, at that moment, I'm completely dumbfounded. My knees were shaking from not eating all day, my blood sugar levels were probably very low. I grab the size zero jeans and step out.
" Yeah, Let's pay."
She nods and pulls me to a massive line leading up to the check out counter, as my eyes scan the people standing in front of us, I process what I was about to do. Lie number 15, and I only started hanging out with Katie and her group of friends two weeks ago. Why did I do this to myself? I was already holding a extra small sized corset, size zero jeans and a pair of ridiculously high stilettos that were a extravagant indigo. I focus my attention on the busty, dark skinned, girl standing in front of me...She held hands with her boyfriend, who was icy-pale. She was full, and he was so bony thin, but they fit hand in hand, they were happy together. I wish I had what she did, the self-love and self-respect that made her proud of who she was, the guts and courage to shop for clothes with her boyfriend. I space out for just a second, Suddenly, I notice she and her other were gone. Where did they go?
"It's your turn!"
My chain of thoughts, Broken.
" O-Oh, right!"
I lay my articles down on the table and fumble with my coin purse, Katie looks at me weirdly as if I was still that loser from two weeks ago.
" That would be 15 dollars..."
I throw my cash down on the table, trying not to mess up my nicely done nails with gems glued onto them. My fingers barely have enough strength to catch the penny that was falling off of the counter. I desperately reach for it, as if, It was all I was.
Damnit, I looked like a loser. I never really killed myself and started a new life when I joined Katie.
I slide my keys into the door and turn, the door swings open almost magically and I let Katie in before me. My stomach twisted into a tight knot after I close the door behind me, these three seconds determined if I could stay her friend.
" God, you look so poor! Whatever, it's okay!"
Her critique mattered so much to me, whether it was my house, my clothes, My weight, or even something stupid like my vocabulary. I laugh and take the jacket she dropped on the couch and left it dangling on a coat hanger. I drop my bags and walk towards the kitchen, leaving her in the living room.
" Make yourself comfortable, would you like something to drink?"
She immediately takes a seat on the white sofa and pulls out her mirror, replying her mascara and adjusting the tone of her blush.
" Sure, a glass of water would be nice."
I watch as the cubes of ice clash at the bottom of the glass, with a clang noise. I run the glass, now filled half way with ice, under the faucet, Drifting off in my own thoughts as the cold water runs.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Moisture, Moisture? I awake back on the planet earth and realize the glass was overfilled. I turn the faucet off until I hear a squeak and walk back into the living room, where I saw the same thing as before, Katie fussing about her looks. I place the glass on the coffee table infront of her with a slight clang as a reminder her actions were kind of rude.
" Here you go."
I say, smiling. The tone in my voice was pleasant enough to get away with, but, you probably could sense a tint of annoyance in it.
" Thank you."
She replies, mocking my tone from earlier. She takes a sip and leaves a hot pink stain of lipstick at the brink of the glass. She stood up and faces me, giving off an unpleasant vibe.
" I'll show you around my room..."
She nods and I take her by the hand, pulling her up the stairs and behind the door with one of my best works of art, A poster decorated with abstract designs spelling out my name. She looks at me, almost dumbfounded for a slight second. Katie Hill, then began to laugh.
" God, your art is dreadful! Seriously! What the hell was that?"
Let it go, just ignore her. I try to sooth my flaming anger as I bite my lip and remind myself I'll have to live like this for another four years.
" I guess you're right!"
I giggle, laughing it off. I look to my right and notice no one next to me anymore, Before I could even realize it, she was going through my clothes. I sigh, I couldn't do anything to stop her.
" Abby, what is this?!"
I looked up, my jaw dropped in shock. She was holding up my size five jeans, high in the air. I blushed a thousand shades of red, I felt the area around my eyes heat up as well, I was ready to....Cry.
" A size five?! Are you for real?! Maybe it's best if you start purging."
I couldn't take it, I couldn't stand her treating an eating disorder like it was apart of fashion. My lips curve into a frown. I open the door and point to the hall outside of it,
I say firmly, not allowing my voice to crack.
" Out. Get out of my house."
She takes a picture of the size five jeans with her smartphone and drops them onto the ground, she leaves my house with a smug look on her face.
" I'm going to send it to everyone in the school."
She slams my bedroom door behind her, there silence. And then, the sound of tearing paper. I let her finish, waiting until I hear the sound of the door on the lower level slam shut. I peek through the creak of the door, She was gone...and, my artwork, was ripped to shreds.
" Hey, you fat slut! Do you need help dragging your size 5 ass home?"
The girls taunt me with those words as they follow behind me on the way home from school. I press my only companion up against my chest, holding onto him with all my might. My street was up ahead, I give the sketchbook I was almost strangling a toothy grin and begin running, holding my head up high. I shut the door behind me and throw my keys onto the counter, I drop my bag and walk up the stairs. I swing open the door with the tapped up piece of artwork spelling " Abby", My name. I flop down on my bed with the bright teal sheets and look up at the ceiling. I was Abby, the loser that drew whenever possible, the girl with the sketchbook, the girl wearing the size 5 jeans.