Tw: Mentions of eating disorder, domestic abuse strong language, slut-shaming, and bullying.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
"Ugh."
I wake up dreading yet another day in my life. I throw the covers off of my lap and stand up; stretching. I ignore the intense wave of dizziness that washes over me. I'm a teenage girl with a ton of stress, it's probably normal.
I do my usual morning routine. But this time, I want to dress...differently. Instead, of the modest clothing that my dad forces me to wear, I want to wear something that makes me feel like me. Maybe, just this once...he won't notice.
I decide to go with a long-sleeved white shirt, which is slightly cropped along with black leggings. And to top it all off, my favorite pair of shoes; high-top checkered vans.
I tie my hair up into my signature ponytail and take one last glance in the mirror.
I grab my backpack along with my beloved vermilion sketchbook. My mind fills with thoughts of what to draw next. Art is one of the only ways to really express myself. If only they all knew how flawed "Little Miss Perfect" really is.
But they never will.
I take a deep breath and walk downstairs; silently praying that my father won't pay any mind to my outfit.
"Morning Father." I avoid his obvious stare; pretending to be very focused the oak wood floors.
"Adora, show me what you are wearing." All of the blood drains from my face.
Shit.
I gulp and slowly turn around; facing my father. Rage fills his dark brown eyes; I brace myself preparing for a lecture. But instead of words he grabs my face; his grip fierce and unmerciful.
"What did I say about wearing clothes like this, Adora?! I did not raise a whore of a daughter!" Despite being absolutely terrified, I keep my face neutral.
He chuckles bitterly.
"Besides, this shirt makes you look fat." He hisses; venom laced with his words. Tears prick my eyes; threatening to spill over. He releases his grip on me and I rush upstairs to change.
I close the door to my room and force down the painful lump in my throat. I will not cry at something so...stupid. Something so true.
I take a deep breath and grab a short-sleeved shirt with a simple Coca-Cola logo on the front.
"I'm not fat." I mumble; trying my best to believe it. The mirror says otherwise.
"Oh, who am I kidding...of course I am."
After I get approval from father, I leave my "perfect" house.
Oh how I hate that word.
I pull up to the massive brick building.
"Here we go again." I mumble; straightening my posture and walking into school.
I put on my best smile and greet classmates and students. I know mostly everybody in the school. But...popularity is a joke. It doesn't matter how many names I've memorized. Or how many people wave at me as I pass by. I'm an outcast. Everybody has their own friend group; composed of people who share the same interests and passions. But me? Well, I'm lucky that I even have friends.
It's certainly not easy to fit in. Of course, nobody knows this. My act is too good. Just the way that it needs to be.
I spot Glimmer and Bow in the cafeteria. Joy overrides me at the sight of them. Bow and Glimmer, the only real friends I have in this dump.
"Hey guys!" We engulf each other in a tight hug.
Once we finally release the embrace, Bow studies my expression.
"Hey, Adora...are you okay? You look a little down." The question catches me off guard.
No, I'm really not.
"I-Um, yeah I'm fine. Just exhausted." He quirks a brow and crosses his arms over his chest.
"Are you sure?" I force a smile and nod.
"Of course. Everything is just perfect." I put an emphasis on the awful word.
Glimmer tugs on my arm. "Come on, Adora! They are serving Chocolate muffins, your favorite!"
I tense up. She licks her lips.
"Let's go before they run out." Bow says; rushing towards the long line. I stand paralyzed.
Crap, how do I get out of this?
"I...I'm actually not hungry."
Glimmer scoffed. "Adora, what's been up with you lately?" She says; a little too loud for my liking.
She captures a few people's attention; their curious stares boring into my soul.
"You never eat anymore, like at all. And look at you! You are practically a stick! You always use the excuse of being exhausted. And you have been avoiding us. Don't think that I didn't notice. Your secretive and you disappear at lunch every day."
My heart is hammering against my chest. Her gaze trails down to my long sleeves.
Oh, please no.
"Why do you always wear long sleeves, Adora? You've got something to hide, don't you? I bet- "
"S-shut up! You don't know anything about me, Glimmer!" My words take her aback. Her eyes widen and she huffs as I storm out of the cafeteria.
One good day. That's all I want.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Little Miss Perfect." A familiar raspy voice fills my ears. Before I have time to react, strong hands pin me down against my locker. I curse under my breath.
She walks up to me; hips swaying with each step. Her face rests right in front of mine; our noses almost touching. My breath hitches.
"Catra." She smirks.
"Heeey, Adora." I struggle against Scorpia and Lonnie's grip.
"Ugh! Let me go!" Catra takes a step back and watches the scene play out.
Tears well in my eyes.
"Awwww, is the Princess going to cry?" I turn away from her; hiding my face as best as I can.
"That was quite the performance you and Sparkles had. Brought me to tears seeing how truly worthless you can be." Catra says; wiping fake tears.
She laughs; a sound that makes my heart flutter.
Ugh, not now, Adora.
Lonnie scoffed. "The Slut got what she deserved." She turns to me; staring me dead in the eye.
"If you go around sleeping with every boy in sight, you are going to lose your friends eventually. I mean somebody as smart as you should know that."
I'm not a whore or a hooker. Or whatever the hell the rumors say about me.
I'm a virgin for Christ's sake.
Just you wait, Lonnie. I'm going to wipe that stupid smirk off of your face.
"Heh, well at least I haven't slept with the whole football team." The look on her face is priceless.
She shoves me to the ground and grabs a pair of scissors from my ajar locker.
I gulp. She won't actually hurt me...right?
"So, the Slut wants to fight back, huh? Let us help you look more like... your true self." The look in her eyes sends chills down my spine.
She hands the scissors to Catra.
"Hold her down, Scorps!" Lonnie orders; a smug smiled plastered across her face. All of the confidence and fight leaves my system.
"No! S-stop, please!" Tears rolled down my cheeks. My eyes lock with Catra's.
Please, Catra...I know that your still in there. This isn't you.
She rolls her eyes and keeps her gaze trailed on her combat boots. She shakes her head and tosses the scissors to Lonnie.
"I'm not doing this. You're on your own." Lonnie smirks and walks towards me.
After cutting holes into the breast pockets of my over shirt, Lonnie throws the scissors to the ground and places her hands on her hips.
"There is that slutty enough for you?" I lean my head against the lockers; too drained to answer. She high-fives Scorpia and then walks down the hallway. As if nothing happened.
I pull myself up. I slam my locker shut and whirl around; almost smacking into Catra.
"Woah, Princess. Watch where you're going." I hug my binders tighter to my chest.
"Catra. What are you doing?" She leans against the neighboring locker.
"Why did Sparkles say all of those things about you? Have you really gone mental or something?" In a twisted sense, I find her question quite comical. This is the first time in weeks that she has talked to me without spitting an insult and this is what she says?
She's gotta be kidding. There is no way that she could care. Hell, she's probably just asking so that she can have something to gossip about.
"Hah, like you care. Fuck off, Catra." Those bitter words seem to cut through her. She takes a step back; the expression on her face unreadable.
But there is something that makes my heart skip a beat...something familiar in the way that she looks at me. And for a split second it's like the old Catra is back.
But I know that it is nothing more then a ghost. Because the Catra that stands before me now? Well, she could care less about my well-being.
Oh, Catra...where did we go wrong?
She shakes her head; snapping out of it. Without another word, she turns on her heel and storms off.
After the weird encounter with Catra, I change out of my tattered shirt and make my way to the Library; hoping that maybe just maybe I will finally get some peace and quiet.
I slide my backpack off of my shoulder and take a seat; scanning the room quickly just to make sure that I'm the only one in here.
I let out a deep breath and take out my sketchbook.
Drawing is the only thing that keeps me sane. That keeps me hopeful. Most of the time, I sketch out how I feel or things that I am passionate about.
I find myself veering towards drawing Lesbian couples lately. I just...admire them. I admire how strong and brave they are. That despite the fact that they are outcasted they pursue to hold the hand of the one they love in public. Facing the cruel word together. Being true to themselves.
It's all that I want to be. A beautiful wish...but nothing more.
If anybody found my sketchbook. If anybody knows that I'm gay...well all hell would break loose.
I plug my earbuds into my phone and quickly get swept away with Melanie Martinez's voice.
A girl stands alone; despite the buzzing crowd surrounding her. They all look so joyous; a sickly-sweet smile plastered onto their faces. But the girl? She keeps her head down; cowering away from the group. Shoulders slumped.
She wears a crop top that showcases her torso; the word "fat" scribbled across it. Though, the girl was practically skin and bones, she believed this with all of her heart. She strived to have a body like the girl's on magazine covers.
A pair of strings were attached to her limbs; pulling her every which way. Hands held the other end of the strings; controlling her every moment. And a word scribbled in burgundy around her head.
Worthless.
I titled the drawing "Little Miss Imperfect." Because, this is who I am. The personality that I portray is entirely made up of unrealistic expectations and toxic words.
Worthless. That's what they all tell me. No matter how hard I try...I can never live up to my father's expectations. I can never sport an hour glass figure. I can never be flawless.
It's all an act.
"Hey, Adora. What are you doing here?" Her voice makes me practically fall out of my seat.
"Oh, Catra. I, um...I have to go to class." I rush out of the library; my face a bright shade of pink.
I made it to my car without getting stopped. I slam the door shut and try to calm the raging whirlwind of thoughts that are mercilessly pounding on my brain.
I grab a water bottle from my backpack and chug it; trying to ease the hunger gnawing away at me. As little as it is, my eating habits are one of the only things that I can control.
I turn on the radio and shut my eyes; hoping to get a little bit of rest. Even if it is in the middle of a vacant parking lot.
I'm missing something...
My eyes snap open.
My sketchbook!