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Hi, I am TheAnonymousEnigma! I am a new author on here and I hope you like my works.

Thank you,
Author's Note: I WROTE  MAJORITY OF THIS STORY AT 15 YEARS OLD. THIS STORY HAS A LOT OF GRAMMATICAL ERRORS BECAUSE I NEVER PROOFREAD ANYTHING, AND THE PLOT ISN'T THE BEST. I CRINGE WHENEVER I THINK ABOUT IT, BUT I CAN'T SEEM TO FIND IT IN ME TO TAKE IT DOWN. IF YOU STILL WANT TO READ IT, GO FOR IT.

TheAnonymousEnigma


«·''·.(*·.¸('·.¸*I. Introduction*¸.·')¸.·*).·''·»

Majority of the world is icy and malicious. That is something I learned as a child, and I didn't need any lectures about it because I am a walking testimony. I never bother anyone or try to point out their fragilities, so why do they turn around and point out mine?

I am African American with coffee-colored skin. Of course, I have brown eyes, and there's nothing special about them. I am not skinny, I am not deemed a beauty among most of our superficial world, and I am certainly not impeccable or immaculate; however, I am Thai – a person who is astute, sagacious, herself, a pioneer, complex and intricate, analytical, as well as a walking contradiction.

I am a vast human being – 265 pounds of vastness to be exact. Because of that idiosyncrasy, I am derided, I am looked at like a pariah, I feel like I look revolting, and I feel inadequate. My abilities, my genii, and my flairs are not accounted for but my weight is.

There is so much hypocrisy in the world, in my town, in my school and I am one of the many victims of it because of one flaw, one foible, one imperfection, one thing, one trait. That is gruesome, vile, dogmatic, chauvinistic, antagonistic, and jingoistic, but that is our world today. It perplexes me, perturbs me, appalls me and repels me. I abhor it.

(¸.·'*
THAI

Getting up and getting dressed was the worst part of the day; you get up, you take a shower, and you go to school. However, there is that small interval of time where you are naked and you have to look in the mirror. H.G. Bond once said that "An idle brain is the devil's workshop", but what about an overly critical one? Isn't that what leads people astray everyday? You believe you're not good enough, so you cut; you believe you're not small enough, so you starve.

The world is so screwed up; we only acknowledge this problem when it's too late. When the overweight girl goes from 190 lbs to 90 lbs in a span on two months or when a person has finally cut too deep and red spills from their wounds and slowly kills them. That's when we finally acknowledge problems.

Did you know that being obese is considered an eating disorder just like anorexia is?

However, our society is too reactive; we automatically look at a person and judge.

"She is fat."

"She is ugly."

With anorexia, the person cannot help it; with obesity, the person should take better care of themselves and should automatically know better, but doesn't both of them take discipline to solve? One you have to buckle down and eat less; the other is the opposite. Doesn't both conditions differ from the norm? Doesn't both conditions hurt the person it's connected to?  Aren't both conditions considered sad when they come about?

What if that person grew up in a house and was always given bigger portions than average? Old habits die hard. These are my thoughts as my foot crosses the threshold of the school bus in the morning with my baggy uniform consisting of beige khakis and a black polo.

I slowly walk up the stairs and look for a seat, a friendly face maybe, but I find none. I close my eyes and sigh, opening them again. I walk through the crowded bus, trying to find the nearest seat. I walk up to a stranger.

"Can I sit here?" I asked as polite as possible.

"Sorry, I have a project that can't get mess up."

I nod curtly but still feel anger well up in me. The project was on paper, and it was between her and the window. It was already crumpled beyond recognition and messed up; there was also room left in the seat. I scowled and walked further back and sat next to another person. Then the bus drove to yet another stop and then to the school. The bus finally stops completely, signaling for us to get off, and I wait until the others get off. I don't feel comfortable squeezing through two people into the already small aisle. I go to my first period. I greet my graphic design teacher and walk in the room; I am the first person there. This is a repeated performance everyday; my social life is slim to none for a teenager.

I see Luis walking down the hall outside of the door window, and I smile coquettishly to myself as I see him. I have liked him since the freshman year, but he is a bit of a douche sometimes, and as you probably can tell he is Hispanic, which is a double-edged sword. Dating and sometimes even attracting others from different races can be difficult. Luis only seriously dates girls in his race; everyone else is a hit it and quit it. At least that's the way it looks, but almost every girl in this school still falls all over him. This tidbit only makes it worse. He had the prettiest girls in school fawning all over him everyday.

I shake my head as I watch him pass with his amigo mejor (best friend), not even sparing a glance at me. He had black hair that stood up in a spear-like style with a pair of sapphire orbs, and a strong jawbone that just begged to be licked. His pale skin was acne free, which only adds to his appeal, and he's built. I witnessed him playing soccer during his sophomore year without a shirt, and it is still a cherished memory of mine.

I walk to my seat at the computer and logged in with that feeling of insecurity sinking in like always.

Alright everyone, comment and please give constructive criticism! By the way, I know most Hispanic people do not act like that. I have many Hispanic friends and best friends. These are just Luis's character traits. Please do not be offended and enjoy!

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