Flight risk. [h.s]

038.

trust me, you need to listen to work song my hozier :)

★

My mother hated me.

She didn't know she hated me and I don't think she meant to hate me.

But she did hate me.

She resented my presence in her life, in her home... the one that I paid for with the acting jobs that I was forced to do.

My mother resented me.

She hated me.

And now as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I start to dissect every intricate part of my appearance.

Nothing was ever good enough for my mum. Nothing ever looked good enough or sounded good enough or impressed her.

I understand that my parents didn't want me, they were too young and too busy with their messy teenage lives to really raise a child but even so, there I was.

There I was, a young little girl who just wanted to be loved. And here I am now, a twenty-six-year-old who doesn't know how to look in the mirror at her reflection without finding something to be disappointed in.

Here I am now, unable to see my own worth because they couldn't. When I wasn't acting and bringing in money for my mother to spend on her drug habit, I was useless. Now, I am taking a break from acting to recover from my own drug habit and I feel just as useless and unlovable.

Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom of the hotel room, I skit my eyes down over my reflection and grimace. I'm looking at myself but I don't recognise the girl looking back at me.

Everything looks the same and yet something about me is not quite right. There are these tiny imperfections that make me feel like a fraud standing here.

I feel like an imposter inside of my skin, the thought of having to face people like this makes my stomach churn but even so, I sigh and continue getting ready.

Running my hands down over the dusty blue silk that falls over my curves. It is velvety soft under my skin, a soft corn flour blue that is dusty and pastel in colour.

It's pretty. Simple but pretty. But even though it is not extravagant or over the top, I still feel stupid in it.

Taking a deep breath, I drag my eyes back up to the tanned skin of my bare shoulders which is shimmered with a small amount of liquid gold shimmer.

"Arls?"

My lips push to the side as I roll my eyes over my appearance and sigh.

I know the second that Harry steps foot in this bathroom and I see how glorious he looks, I will feel even worse. Being on his arm means that I need to look impeccable at all times. He's so pretty and anything less than perfect isn't good enough to be seen with him.