hi guys, not going to lie to you but i completely forgot about this book...oops.

you can also imagine what you look like.
—

I couldn't sleep.

It was late, almost around three am and my mind was running like a cd on a loop. Some nights I didn't sleep, some nights I did but there was no luck for right now. The only reason my mind kept me up was the thought of school.

Which happened to start today.

Well, isn't that just fucking grand?

School was my eternal suffering. It was the place I hated the most, the place that always had to leave a nasty taste in my mouth. School was were the cool kids were, were the nerds co-existed, and the where the people in between couldn't care any less about anyone.

I wish I could say I fit in the category of 'in between'.

But I don't. I don't really fit anywhere.

We can also thank my social skills for that...well, because I have none.

I was always the loner girl. The girl people would humiliate during preschool and all throughout kindergarten. The girl who didn't know how to co-exist, the girl without a backbone.

It's embarrassing really.

But what can I say?

Nothing. I can't say anything.

To say I had something to actually look forward to during school would be a flat out lie, like saying men can have babies. They can't, therefore, I can't lie.

There are times in life I wish I did have social skills...friends too. My mother would always complain that there is something wrong with me because when she was my age, she had all the boys and friends in the world.

They worshipped her.

She always asked the question of 'how could you be my daughter?!'

My mother happened to also be a horrible person. She drank too much, smoked till she couldn't breathe, and blabbered about herself like the whole world revolves around her.

Nothing in my universe could possibly matter if she was involved, she always made that crystal clear. Sometimes she couldn't even stomach to look at me, she'd say I look like a gremlin and remind me of how much she disliked me everyday.

It didn't hurt anymore when she talked like that because I finally saw her truth for my own eyes.

I wasn't attractive,

I was like a monster that came out a children's book.

Dark eyes, hair almost midnight black, and olive skin that looked almost orange under the sun, that's all I was blessed with. I wore lousy band tees or oversized hoodies that drowned my frame, sweatpants or leggings were alternate, only wearing jeans on a good day.

Which never really happened...good days, I mean.

And the worst part of myself that I hated...my glasses.

My vision was fucking terrible from the day I was born so the doctor prescribed me these chunky glasses that were always a little too big for my face so they would slide down my nose sometimes.

My dad thought they were adorable and loved seeing me in them. My mother thought it was a nuisance.

God, I missed my dad.

Maybe I did have a few things to look forward to during school. It was junior year which means I'm nearly almost done and I get to take art and music. Those two were my specialty.

My room was filled with art supplies, cds, radios, sketchbooks, and my record player. My dad and I named him Jackson. My dad bought it for me for my 12th birthday.

I cried that day.

I glanced over at the clock on my desk, the time illuminating in bold, green laters '6:15 am'. I groaned heavily, rolling onto my stomach.

I had to wake my mom up in 10 for work, probably make her some coffee, and listen to  her complain on why she is forced to get up early and why I get to sleep in.

God, my mother sucked.

Standing up, I looked towards my window, a little light peeking through the white curtains. I could see a few people jogging or some with dogs down the road. I could also see Jimin's house from here.

In my neighborhood, you could clearly see the houses change from poor to rich in an instant. Jimin's house was the first mansion on this block, sitting beside the some shitty looking house.

I was across the street from him but two houses down, my house small and tiny. It didn't also help the fact that it looked like you could blow your breath in its direction and the house would just tumble to the ground.

Remember y/n. Love things for their sentimental value and not their worth.

That was another bullshit lie I fed myself in the morning.

This house had no sentimental value or worth.

But still, Jimin hadn't even noticed we lived on the same block or that I had even knew who he was until he stumbled into Pizza Palace, aka my work, one night.

He was completely wasted with his friends and some chicks hanging with him and they smashed up a few things around the joint before he stumbled his way over to the counter and asked for a pepperoni pizza with me on top.

That was July, it's officially September.

He was also the coolest guy in school, the prettiest too. Girls wanted him, guys would die for him so it still leaves me dumbstruck on how he ended up fucking me in the bathroom stall a few weeks after that and how that sort of became our thing.

Fucking, I mean.

His rules were no kissing though. He made it sure I couldn't kiss someone like him. That was the one rule made sure was left unbroken.

The first time it happened, our movements were messy and uncoordinated but we still managed. It got better of that though.

The second was in his car when he dropped by during my break and told his friends he had to pick something up from down the street and would be back in no time. He ended up sliding a note on the counter towards me which read:

parking lot in five. bring the hat

Jimin had a thing for my pizza hat.

I think he wanted to believe he was fucking a real life pizza with my red shirt and brown pants and a part of me was happy to oblige to that.

He didn't text me normally though, only when to meet up and where.

After that I wouldn't hear from him for days. No sort of interaction, only when he would swing by my work with his friends, order his food, and toss me some cash afterwards.

Pretty shitty life, I guess.

I walked out of my bedroom down the hall to my mother's room, hearing her loud snores erupt from behind the door. I opened the door carefully, peeking my head through the crack and studied her sleeping form.

Her limbs were strewn all around the bed, the sheets on the floor, and her lousy purple nightgown was bunched up to her skinny waist.

"Mom—mom, wake up," I say, rubbing my eyes, "Mother dearest you have work." I say a bit louder this time. She stirs for a little bit before popping a lid open.

Her eyes fling around the room before the settle on me and she groans.

"Y/n, you have to stop barging into my bedroom like this."

"Mom, you always say to wake you up—"

She doesn't wait for my response and cuts me off.

"It's actually kind of rude. I pay the bills in this house and you come without knocking, barging into my room like a hooligan."

It's is too early for her antics.

"You make no sense, you ask me to wake up every morning and not to knock because you are a heavy sleeper."

Her black hair whips to the side as she snaps her head to mine, pointing her finger towards my direction, "Are you sassing me right now? Is that what this is?"

"No, mom. I'm only saying what you told me." I run my hands on my face again, bickering with her is wearing me out.

"You have a problem with that goddamn damn attitude that needs to be straightened out properly." She hisses, "Get out, I'm sick and tired of looking at you."

I wouldn't even say I'm offended, this is how a normal conversation between us goes.

"And Y/n?" She calls me right as I began to turn my back on the door.

"Don't ever put on a pair of shorts in this house until you lose some weight...you look like a goddamn buffalo."

-
end of chap.