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Chapter Forty-Two

Heather's POV

Words


6 Days

"This dress is so pretty," Isabelle gushed, pulling out a nude pink dress from a rack filled with light colored dresses. The dress she held had mesh sleeves embroidered with sewn flowers. It wasn't skimpy or short like most of the other dresses I had seen here in Forever 21, and to be honest, I thought it looked gorgeous. It would fit someone as tall and pretty as Isabelle.

"I agree. You should try it," I said, encouraging her to find a dressing room.

Isabelle didn't answer me and scrutinized the dress, her lips scrunched up and twisted to the side of her face while her eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. I saw her eyes flicker from the dress to me, and then back to the dress again. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I think you should try it." She walked over to me and held the dress up to my chest. "You have the perfect body for it, and your brown hair matches this more than mine does."

I blushed. "Yeah, right. I'm too fat for this."

"Just try it, Heather. You're prettier than you think are." Isabelle's eyes widened when she spotted another dress. Pulling it out, I saw that it was a yellow-colored off shoulder dress with designs of birds near the bottom of it. It wasn't too bad looking, but it wouldn't fit someone like me, even if I did find it secretly pretty. I'm just too ugly to wear any dress.

"You should try this one, too," Isabelle said, handing it to me. Then, wrapping her fingers around my wrist, she led me over to a dressing room. I didn't want to be rude and tell her 'no', so I reluctantly went into a stall to try the dresses on.

Trying on the yellow dress first, I made sure not to look at myself in the mirror as I pulled it over my head. Once the dress was on, I opened the stall door to show Isabelle.

She gasped. "Oh my god, you look so beautiful in it!"

I awkwardly shifted my weight from one foot to the other, feeling flattered. "Thanks," I murmured.

"No, really," Isabelle said, spinning me around so that I was facing the mirror. Being that I wasn't prepared for Isabelle to do that, I accidentally caught sight of my unruly reflection. I could've almost cried at what I saw. I haven't looked at myself in a while. I looked so different. My hair resembled straw, my lips were chapped, my body shape had changed, and there were dark circles under my eyes. I could've sworn I used to be curvier, but now, I looked like a stick. My skin was an unhealthy pale color now, too. I looked depressed and dead, definitely unlike the girl I knew three months ago. My eating disorder and cutting was definitely taking its toll on me.

"No, Belle," I croaked, suddenly turning around and shoving her out of the dressing room. "I don't want to try on any more dresses." I look hideous. No wonder my father can't look at me dead in the eyes most of the time. No wonder my father always called me ugly.

I look terrible.

I roughly tugged off the dress and threw on my original clothes--which consisted of a gray UW sweatshirt and black skinny jeans--before yanking open the door and hurrying out of the store. I heard Isabelle calling my name, sounding concerned, but I ignored her.

I caught sight of a restroom near the food court and made my way in there, locking myself inside a stall. I sat on the toilet and covered my ears with my hands, trying to block out the hurtful words I was recalling from my dad:

Ugly, hideous, a mistake...

Hang in there, Heather. Just another six more days, an inner voice pleaded. I felt a tear leak from my eye. Reaching into the pocket of my pants, I pulled out my pocketknife. I bought it this morning when I was getting gummy worms. I think this was the longest I've gone without cutting.

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