Chapter 4:\\ Breaking Point

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Treat others how you want to be treated.

Be kind.

Don't lie.

Always be honest.

Those are words my parents often said to me, they often claimed that honesty was important, but so was kindness. So then, what was the point when honesty turned into a den of wolves, poking and prodding at every truth.

Honesty and kindness, in my opinion, were polar opposites. They were mutually exclusive because if I were to tell Katy that the giant throbbing mole with the hair growing in it on her elbow was ugly, that would be considered very unkind. But if I tell her it looks fine, then that's a lie. The best in-between solution was to keep my nasty thoughts to myself and never utter a word about her mole.

That's how I treated others, I didn't make it a point to insult them and tear them down. I didn't voice my thoughts regardless of how rude it was. And neither did any of my friends at Rosemond. They were all nice to me, nobody ever judged me— at least, not out loud— for my body. And yet, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about my overnight trip a few weeks ago. It was the only thing my mind allowed me to process. And at this point, I wished that everything would be all right. I wanted the feelings of self-loathing and insecurity to go away.

I thought having cheer practice daily and not eating until I got home around seven p.m. would be enough to solve my problem. But instead, it only made me hungrier, and when I'd get home, I'd drown myself in self-loathing and chocolate.

Spring break was just around the corner; it was on the verge of wrapping it's warm tendrils around us and wrapping us like a microwaved burrito, taking us toward the sun. It would arrive only to warn us that the rest of our high school experience was limited. We would have twelve weeks left before graduation and then, the world would thrust us into reality. We would become 'real adults.'

Twelve weeks, gosh. I couldn't wait for this entire high school experience to be over. I couldn't wait to graduate and move on with my life— away from the immature and useless drama of Rosemond, the people that couldn't care less about me or what I stood for. However, after my Hinkley trip, I realized that I would probably be staying in town a little longer. Until I applied to another school after my two-year associates program.

I had decided to decline my acceptance to Hinkley. Instead, I decided to attend the Institute, which was no more than a thirty minute drive from my home. And I planned on maybe getting my driver's license this summer, or figuring out public transport. Amy was less than excited to find out about my decision, but every-time she had asked me why I had turned down my top choice— and one of the top tier schools— I had no response.

I didn't want to tell her that in the first two days that I was there, I'd been bullied for something I couldn't change in one day. I was insecure, that was true, and knowing myself, I knew I couldn't handle it. I felt victimized and trailed to a corner. It was my fault for antagonizing an entire school over one experience, but it wasn't like I could go back and adjust the parameters of my anti-acceptance.

The only things I had kept telling her was that it wasn't my vibe. I didn't feel like I fit in— which wasn't completely untrue. Though, I do wish I had had a better experience. It was dumb of me to base my entire college decision on a three day trip where I had met shitty people. Though, I don't take it past myself to recognize that everything happens for a reason— and perhaps my experience at Hinkley was meant to happen as it had to deter me from the school.

Either way, I couldn't go back now and attempt to un-do my rejection of their acceptance. I didn't want to either— especially if it meant being met with rude and unkind people. I was sensitive to my weight and people just loved pointing out my flaws.

Bailey BloomWhere stories live. Discover now