Demi ran up the stairs sobbing, hoping that no one could hear her. She had always felt so weak and vulnerable when people saw her cry. She thought it was wretched how people could cry in public. But she just couldn’t hold it in. When she closed the door behind her she didn’t hold back and all the tears flooded out. Though it was an impulse to cry after such a horrific embarrassment it didn’t help to ease the pain. Actually it worsened it. Her eyes burned like fire and her throat ached, eager to scream and to swear. She watched her makeup flow down her face with the tears like thick black ooze. She rubbed her face hard, trying to wipe away the gunk from her face, but her skin just reddened far more from the irritation.
In the bathroom she soaked her face with a wet cloth, trying to calm herself down. Her face was an uneven red and her eyes were puffy and blood shot. She looked up into the mirror. She felt utterly pathetic. Her face was clean of makeup, and the redness had softened, but she felt so ugly. She would breathe a deep breath and reapply the makeup. She would brush back her hair from her face into a neat ponytail. And she would go back down stairs and pretend that nothing had ever happened, that she wasn’t just called worthless. She would pretend that they were all friends, and that no body hated her. She would go on and ignore all the stares she got from Travis’ family and all the rude remarks saying how he could do better. No, she was going to play good.
But she didn’t want to.
She looked at herself in the mirror, deep into her eyes and she began believing what they said. She was worthless and pathetic. She was just another fling for Travis. It ate at her, deep deep down until in burrowed itself into her brain.
“I am nothing.” She said to her reflection. But no, she realised then that she was more than that.
“I am Anastasia.” She said after a moment’s pause.
(The 2 weeks in hell shorts are not in order for anyone who is confused. They are just random exerts from the story.)