It Watches

I scan it, the horrible thing looking back at me, I scan it with an expression of utter disgust and hate. It's too round to be attractive, with too short of hair and cheeks that stick out. Her short height of 5'2" doesn't help her. Tears start to well in my eyes, hot streaks of hate that roll down my round cheeks. This mirror haunts me. I hate the look I have adopted, the body figure I seem to be incapable of shaking. I look down. I know I can see my toes without struggle, and I know that by some standards I am in fact, not fat, but, I am. I know I am, and no one can change that. I consider getting on the scale today, as I have every day for the last few months. In my longer-than-a-moment moment of weakness, I step on the scale. Seeing the numbers 140 lbs settle on the screen, I turn my face away. I question if anybody will ever want me as heavy as I am. Of course not! I am such an idiot to think one possibly could. Turning away and slaming the door, I walk to another day of high school. "The gates of hell await, patty."