Tap water cupped within my hands as I splashed away the cleanser foam spread across my face. My eyes closed, blurred for a couple moments as my hands roamed for the face towel I kept to my left. The instinct was subconscious, grabbing the weekly-changed towel (today being purple) and patting my face until all of my morning face was gone.
When I opened my eyes, my vision cleared. I didn't notice my brown eyes, though they were staring back at me, but instead begin to judge and carry through my flaws.
I found my acne first; light but carried throughout my cheeks and forehead. I noticed my blemishes next, finding them next to acne scars and acne parts. It was bad, but at least I didn't look like it did in middle school. It took years for me to get to this; the condition it is now.
My eyes racked down my half-naked body; having them scan down my stomach and legs. My chest, the only good feature about me, was ignored over as I look down to my stomach, my thick thighs, my arms and butt.
I had a condition called KP, which cause itself to run a long line of red bumps and built up follicles on my arms and legs. It became problematic when I begin to notice that my friends: Raelynn, Naomi and Aubree, didn't share the same features I did. They didn't have bumpy skin but instead silky smooth ones. It became a issue so much, I like to cover up my arms with long-sleeves.
My eyes wander to my stomach and thighs for a good period of time, having always reminded that they carried a bit more fat than my friends. While my friends had long legs and tone stomach, I had a bit of a tummy tuck and thick thighs. I always hate looking at myself; having always found a mirror and saw this.
The inside of my mouth clawed by my teeth, biting on the side of my cheek. I tear my eyes away, looking down at the contact container on the side of my sink and switched into the blue contacts.
It took a few seconds to adjust to the lighting, blinking rapidly as tears caught down my cheeks, but when the vision begin to clear, I let out a heavy breath at my transition.
Step one: complete.
I walk out of the bathroom, heading over to my room. The lighting of the morning day was perfect for seeing my facial outlines, and when I sat a position on my makeup desk, I begin to do my features.
A regular makeup look for school took approximately thirty minutes; I had to gloss over my acne spots with concealer than heavy on some foundations. I had a different eyeshadow wear everyday, and always had matched them up with false lashes. Filling in my brows were second to last, and when finished, I tiptoed around finding the best lip-gloss from my collections.
When I finished, I had thirty minutes to spare. With the time presented, I changed into my outfit — a yellow Tommy Jeans sweatshirt, Adidas legging with their trademark white lines on the side, and yellow Nike Prestos.
My phone off of the charger as I clicked through Instagram, scrolling through my likes before heading downstairs for my morning breakfast.
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YOU ARE READING
Miss Nail Techie | ✓
Teen FictionLila Pham works at one of the busiest nail salons in the city; with business booming out of proportion and her fear of her friends and fellow classmates discovering her location of work is at bay, all seems to be going well. Except for the fact tha...