Chapter five

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Alright guys heres another update. Tell me what you think in the comments below! It's kind of a filler chapter but I hope you all still like it. 

Chapter five

I wondered if I would ever be normal, if I could ever get over this ridiculous fear. A fear of people getting too close to me. But it wasn’t completely irrational right? People had said it was my fault, that I should’ve seen it coming. That I shouldn’t have tried so hard to be so pretty, but I had always been ‘pretty one’ so how could I possibly be anything else when that’s all anyone had ever told me.

 

Boys would whistle and yell catcalls at me.

 

People whether they were strangers, friends, family, or even teachers would comment on my appearance.

 

My dad would say I was pretty just like mom.

 

My friends would complain about me being the pretty friend.

 

Boys would ask to do things for me just because they found me aesthetically pleasing.

 

I used to feel special. I used to feel good when people told me these things. I thought it made me wanted and better than other people. I used to like it until I found out how bad it can be to be wanted by others.

 

People would try and take advantage of you. They wouldn’t actually listen to what you had to say. You became an object, something to own, something to be seen but not heard. Just a pretty face.

 

Of course you could never be sad because pretty people always smiled, that’s part of what made them so pretty.

 

Nothing bad ever happens to pretty people either. They get special treatment and people are always nice to you because you have a nice face.

 

Pretty people can’t be insecure because they’re already pretty, already perfect.

 

All of that is wrong.

 

I want to give a bitter laugh at the worlds ignorance, but people would mistake it for a happy laugh. A laugh from a pretty girl means nothing except that she likes you.

 

Pretty girls can’t change the world. They only decorate it.

 

***************

 

I was tossing an apple up into the air before catching it when someone walked into the living room.

 

“Are you actually going to eat that?” Jace asked with an amused smile.

 

“I’m not sure,” I said jokingly back at him.

 

“Here, this is better,” he said tossing an orange my way.

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