Abigail

Chapter 11

Chapter kind of sucks, but this story isn't about getting lots of votes or being popular or whatever. I'm writting this to make people aware of mental illnesses (I've been through all of this. It's a hell that you can't escape.) and to get the bad thoughts out of my head by putting it into something I'm kind of good at. I usually write songs or poems about what I go through, but this is a little bit easier. I'm sorry if you don't enjoy it, it's not one of my best works I'll admit, but it means a lot to me if you take the time to read it. And please, please, please don't look at yourself any differently because of this story. I didn't write it to make you hate yourself, I would never want anyone to go through any of this.

Okay, I'll shut up now:)

        Thankfully James let me shave last night, even though he had to watch me, I didn’t really care, I’m just glad he let me since I’m going to be gone before anybody gets home tonight. I don’t want to be hairy on my date tonight, even though Zach won’t see anything, I want to at least feel good about myself.

                I got out of the shower and went over to my phone, changing the song before going back into the bathroom. I bent down and opened the left cabinet since the other one was locked and held the razors, I pulled out my perfume, lotion and deodorant. In between the two cabinets, my brothers somehow put a block of wood to block the razors and scale so I can’t get to them.

                I slipped into a pair of panties and a bra, wrapping my hair in a towel before going over to my dresser and ruffling through until I found something that didn’t look like it came from a homeless person.

                Somehow I decided on an outfit, a black skirt that puffed out at the bottom and a white tee that had a black ribcage on it. I went into the bathroom, sprayed some perfume and put on my deodorant before shoving everything back under the sink.

                I went back into my room and into my sock drawer, pulling out a pair of thigh-high socks with skulls and cross-bones on them. Only a little bit of my skin was showing, maybe two inches, but Nick probably wouldn’t let me leave if he was home and saw that I had any skin showing.

                I took the towel off my head and brushed my hair several times, letting it dry by itself because it’s naturally curly and I have no idea what else to do with it.

                Before leaving my room, I brushed my teeth three times, even though he probably won’t kiss me any time soon. I stood in front of the enemy –AKA the mirror- and turned around, trying to find a flaw that I know I was hiding. Somehow I approved of my outfit and I didn’t change a million times like I thought I would. Of course, I wanted to throw on layers and layers of clothes to hide all the fat on my body, but I managed to walk away from the mirror before I really began to freak out.

                I flicked the light off in the bathroom and switched from blasting music to ear buds, grabbing everything I needed including my black sweater with skulls all over it. I made sure I had a pack of gum, just in case we did go out to eat and turned the light off in my room, trudging downstairs and into the kitchen.

                I dropped my bag and my jacket on the table, going over to the fridge and pulling out two cans of diet soda and two water bottles. I don’t want to be bloated on my date, but it’s better than having my stomach growling the whole time.

                First I drank the two water bottles, which went down easily until it began to settle. Then my stomach began to hurt and I had to wait another ten minutes before I could drink the soda. By the time I finished all the drinks, I felt like I had to throw up. I turned up my music and stumbled into the living room, jumping in surprise when I realized Drake and Alex are sitting there watching TV.