Decisions (Prologue)
My new story. I hope you like it
Okay guys, it's a bit short but it's just the Prologue, explanations.
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"Gosh, look at her! Just imagine how her mum must feel having to live with that!"
I squirmed in my seat and turned to look out the window. Jenny shot me an apologetic glance from the seat next to me. I shrugged, it happened all the time, I was used to it. We were in English with Mr. Ingo and the insults that Rachel Kessie were hissing around the class were directed at me. On the outside I was putting up a confident front but inside I was cringing and hating myself. It happened every day, but it still hurt to know that she hated me so much. One of the main reasons was because I was kind of rich, my mum designed hats and her business-Angelz-has been doing really for the past four years. But it was just an excuse to torment me on my weight.
Because I was fat, and I mean really humongous, highly overweight. My GP had told me if I didn't slow down my binging I was gonna end up having a heart attack or being diabetic. But don't think i'm self-piteous, no, because it's all my fault that I'm like this. It's completely self-inflicted, and it started when I was 8.
When I was 8 my father and I went to Thorpe Park and on the way back I was so hyper from all the candy floss and sweets I had eaten. We were on the motorway and my father saw that I had undone my seat belt. He leaned over to do it up, taking his eyes off the road for only about two seconds, and when he looked up there was a truck heading for us. He swerved sharply to the right and crashed into a fence. It was eerily quiet for a moment before I started screaming, there was huge gash down my left arm and the blood was pulsing from it. His seat had slipped forward and the airbag was in his face, and no matter how hard I screamed his name he wouldn't answer. I could see there was blood on his temple and around his nose and it frightened me. When the truck-driver opened my door I resisted his attempts to get me out and grabbed my father's arm and pulled. But the driver got me out by force, he was shouting at me, telling me something about the engine and fire and that was when the car...exploded. That's the only word for it, the flames engulfed it and all I remember is screaming for my father and trying to escape from the truck-driver's grasp.
I spent a few days in hospital crying and refusing to speak to anyone. When my mother came to take me home, she glared at me and pushed me into the backseat. Her eyes were rimmed with red but there were no tears for me, or my broken arm. And when I got through the front door she spun round and slapped me in my face so hard my eyes smarted. And then in a menacing and quiet voice she whispered three words that sent my world spiraling.
"You killed him".
I was only 8 but she didn't seem to care. She hated my guts, she hated the sight of me and she avoided me unless it was absolutely unavoidable. So I started eating, at first it was only a small amount every day. Then I was binging and I told myself it was comfort-eating and it was alright because of the recent trauma. But as the years passed I did no exercise and I carried on binging. Because I had loved my father and those words broke any faith I had in myself. What did it matter if I ruined my body? Became an ugly gruesome thing? I remember that I was quite thin as a little girl, and fairly pretty. But after eight years of stuffing myself, my body was distorted and huge. My face was greasy and covered with spots, I always had cold-sores and I always had food with me.
None knows my mum hates me, she always acts like butter wouldn't melt in public,but in the privacy of our home, she makes life a living hell. I don't mean like treating me like a slave or whatever, just how she always looks at me as I were the lowest kind of insect. Always cursing and insulting me, reducing me into body-wracking sobs.
And at school it's even worse. Some people hate me because I have more money than them, but it's only selfish, vain people like Rachel Kessie and her followers. Her boyfriend Jason and his friends. I have friends, not a lot, but more than I need. Jenny, Michelle and Michael who are twins, Justin, Sarah and Danielle. They all tell me I have a wonderful personality but I'm not so sure that's true. The majority of the school who don't know me just avoid me, they don't want to be on the wrong side of Rachel.
I've never had a boyfriend and I doubted I'd ever have one, I was so ugly. Which was why I was so surprised and suspicious when the new boy asked me out. And as it turned out, I had every right to be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Gosh, look at her! Just imagine how her mum must feel having to live with that!"
I squirmed in my seat and turned to look out the window. Jenny shot me an apologetic glance from the seat next to me. I shrugged, it happened all the time, I was used to it. We were in English with Mr. Ingo and the insults that Rachel Kessie were hissing around the class were directed at me. On the outside I was putting up a confident front but inside I was cringing and hating myself. It happened every day, but it still hurt to know that she hated me so much. One of the main reasons was because I was kind of rich, my mum designed hats and her business-Angelz-has been doing really for the past four years. But it was just an excuse to torment me on my weight.
Because I was fat, and I mean really humongous, highly overweight. My GP had told me if I didn't slow down my binging I was gonna end up having a heart attack or being diabetic. But don't think i'm self-piteous, no, because it's all my fault that I'm like this. It's completely self-inflicted, and it started when I was 8.
When I was 8 my father and I went to Thorpe Park and on the way back I was so hyper from all the candy floss and sweets I had eaten. We were on the motorway and my father saw that I had undone my seat belt. He leaned over to do it up, taking his eyes off the road for only about two seconds, and when he looked up there was a truck heading for us. He swerved sharply to the right and crashed into a fence. It was eerily quiet for a moment before I started screaming, there was huge gash down my left arm and the blood was pulsing from it. His seat had slipped forward and the airbag was in his face, and no matter how hard I screamed his name he wouldn't answer. I could see there was blood on his temple and around his nose and it frightened me. When the truck-driver opened my door I resisted his attempts to get me out and grabbed my father's arm and pulled. But the driver got me out by force, he was shouting at me, telling me something about the engine and fire and that was when the car...exploded. That's the only word for it, the flames engulfed it and all I remember is screaming for my father and trying to escape from the truck-driver's grasp.
I spent a few days in hospital crying and refusing to speak to anyone. When my mother came to take me home, she glared at me and pushed me into the backseat. Her eyes were rimmed with red but there were no tears for me, or my broken arm. And when I got through the front door she spun round and slapped me in my face so hard my eyes smarted. And then in a menacing and quiet voice she whispered three words that sent my world spiraling.
"You killed him".
I was only 8 but she didn't seem to care. She hated my guts, she hated the sight of me and she avoided me unless it was absolutely unavoidable. So I started eating, at first it was only a small amount every day. Then I was binging and I told myself it was comfort-eating and it was alright because of the recent trauma. But as the years passed I did no exercise and I carried on binging. Because I had loved my father and those words broke any faith I had in myself. What did it matter if I ruined my body? Became an ugly gruesome thing? I remember that I was quite thin as a little girl, and fairly pretty. But after eight years of stuffing myself, my body was distorted and huge. My face was greasy and covered with spots, I always had cold-sores and I always had food with me.
None knows my mum hates me, she always acts like butter wouldn't melt in public,but in the privacy of our home, she makes life a living hell. I don't mean like treating me like a slave or whatever, just how she always looks at me as I were the lowest kind of insect. Always cursing and insulting me, reducing me into body-wracking sobs.
And at school it's even worse. Some people hate me because I have more money than them, but it's only selfish, vain people like Rachel Kessie and her followers. Her boyfriend Jason and his friends. I have friends, not a lot, but more than I need. Jenny, Michelle and Michael who are twins, Justin, Sarah and Danielle. They all tell me I have a wonderful personality but I'm not so sure that's true. The majority of the school who don't know me just avoid me, they don't want to be on the wrong side of Rachel.
I've never had a boyfriend and I doubted I'd ever have one, I was so ugly. Which was why I was so surprised and suspicious when the new boy asked me out. And as it turned out, I had every right to be.
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