The Great Pretender

She wakes today as she does every other day in her life.

The first thing she thinks about is how much she hates herself.

A tear formed in the corner of her eye at the thought of facing the world.

She gets up and goes to her closet to carefully pick out her attire for the day.

Of course she hated her body, so the main objective was to cover it up just enough.

She was smart and knew that if you strategically paired a pair of leggings with a baggy-but-not-too-baggy top then no one would think that you were covering up something.

Once she had picked out her attire for the day, she moved to get ready for a shower. While in the bathroom she stared at her body, she teared up felt repulsed. She stood there for a few moments as she resisted the urge to take a razor to her bare flesh like she had done many times before.

She stepped into the shower and braced herself for the pain. The pain she felt during showers had become an everyday occurrance because of the open cuts on her legs which had been strategically placed on her upper thighs so that they were easily coverable.

As she carried on getting herself ready for the day she grew increasingly anxious and self-conscious. But she was no fool, and years of private school and social grooming had taught her how to play people just right. She knew that she had to let people in a little bit so they wouldn't grow suspicious of her but she had also learned to keep everyone at an arm's length.

She thought about going downstairs to get something to eat, but then looked at the clock and realized that she wouldn't have enough time to stick her toothbrush down her throat to force herself to throw it up. She knew that what she was doing was horrible for her body and her health but her sense of reason and logic was most often overpowered by her desperate need to rid her body of the weighing feeling of food.

However, the greatest task that she tackled daily was her make-up. It was the part of the day that she loathed and loved simultaneously. She loved it because it was a chance to cover up, and she loathed it for the very same reason. As she applied layer after layer of foundation her physical insecurities went away and she started to feel comfortable. Just a little.

She went to her accessories and pulled out several bracelets, earrings and necklaces. She always wore an insane amount of jewelery because she figured that if people were paying attention to her accessories, they wouldn't have time to pay attention to how ugly she was.

People told her that she was pretty all the time, but most of the time when they did it just made her feel sad and confused. When guys told her she was pretty, she knew it was because they wanted sex. When other people told her she was pretty, it was because they felt sorry for her. Everyone attributed the way she dressed and acted to her "diva" persona, but no one took the time to get to know the person under the make-up and the pearls.

And she pulls on her thigh-high boots and pastes on a smile and walks out of the door for another day of pretending.......