I woke up slowly. I'm surprised I woke up at all. I've become something of a insomniac lately. Sleep was a tiny miracle for me. It was still dark outside, but I wasn't about to go back to sleep. With a groan, I rolled out of bed, and felt my way to the bathroom, and started the shower.
I hate my body. I really do. With thighs the size of Texas, and flabby arms, I am what you would call a 'big girl.'
I'm not that kind of fat, like the scary obese people you may see. I'm just big, with a tiny waist, right under monster boobs I got from my mom. Genes suck some times. And I've done everything healthy to try to lose weight. One week, all I ate was apples. They didn't give me the hourglass figure I was looking for.
But in the shower, all I can do is relax, and I don't think about anything like that. Until I remembered that it was a Monday, days I hate the most. Because that's when I have gym.
I got out and attacked my shoulder length black curly hair with a brush, and managed to actually do something with it. A messy bun would have to do. My throat hurt a little as I walked back to my room.
I prayed that I wasn't getting sick. That's the last thing I needed. I got dressed in jeans and a deep purple empire waist blouse. It's the only thing I look good in, empire waisted shirts. Then, I grabbed my high top Chucks, and my backpack, and headed downstairs quietly.
The clock in the kitchen said 6 am. My parents would be up in 10 minutes. I could hear their alarm clock every morning sitting on the couch.
The one thing I like about me is my feet. They were small, only a size 6 in women's shoes. I slid my chucks on, and grabbed some breakfast. Then, I passed my sleepy father in the bathroom brushing his teeth, and headed to mine, to get rid of all traces of Pop-tart.
"Kelsey, are you up already?" My dad mumbled on my way past the bathroom again, now minty fresh.
"Yep." I said, and walked downstairs. Being a single-child made things a little difficult, as far as control and your parents involvement is concerned. Luckily, my parents were addicted to their work, so I only had that problem in the mornings.
My throat felt dry and scratchy as I left the house. I must have drunk a gallon of water before leaving, but my throat was still dry and thirsty. I got into my old Honda Accord and slammed the door. I had to do that or it would open while driving.
I loved where we lived, Gresham, a small suburb off of Portland. As I drove, I got this strange feeling, like I wasn't going fast enough. At one point, I had to take my foot off the gas to avoid going over the speed limit. Wondering what the hell was wrong with me, I pulled into the school parking lot.
I hated the people who lived here. As I stepped out of my car, a pack of bitch girls (so I liked to call them) smirked at me. Rolling my eyes, I began another day in hell.
As I sat in math, I swallowed. My throat hurt like a son of a batch of cookies. The sun was managing to make a appearance today, and I felt I was baking in a oven.
I almost ran to the cafeteria at lunch time. I bought a bottle of water and a salad, and went to sit down with my friends. Actually, I would call my table the slut free zone. We were a collection of nobody's, band freaks, and nerds.
I took off the cap and chugged. My throat soothed. After a minute, it came back. Irritated, I took a bite of salad.
And almost threw up. It was tasteless, and slimy. Ignoring the weird looks I was getting, I dumped my tray of uneaten food, and started to walk back to my seat.
I almost made it.
"Trying to lose weight? Honey, not eating isn't going to help." A slut said like the bitch she was. Her friends started laughing.
"At least I don't puke up everything I eat." I shot back, feeling unnaturally cranky, and walked around her and sat down.
I heard her gasp, and the tittering her friends made. For the rest of the hour, I sat with my head in my arms, trying to ignore the fire in my throat. I tried a cough drop, but that was worse than the salad.
At the end of the day, I just sat in my car, miserable. After awhile, I made it home, dreading all the homework I had to do. My damn throat had drawn my attention away, and I had no idea how to do it.
But to my surprise, my homework was easy, almost boring. It took me 5 minutes. Since my parents wouldn't be home until 10, I decided to Google sore throat, and see what the hell I should do. In the end, I swallowed 2 Tylenol and collapsed on my bed.
I stayed there all night long. I didn't sleep for one second. The fire in my throat didn't lessen.
And I wasn't tired at all the next morning. Just irritable. My mom actually let me stay home from school, after feeling my forehead and finding it ice cold.
And everything went down hill from there.
Hey hey! Yes, I ambitious, yet another story for me! Anyhow, don't expect much, this is cramming for finals week, plus, I get braces the 15th! So chapters might not come on for a while…but here is a taste!