• Fat

    I opened the door to the dressing room. Great, I thought, sighing, another cute pair of jeans that don't fit me. Being 140 pounds and only standing five feet, blonde hair and blue eyes fit perfectly into my physique. My black and grey plastic square glasses me look even cuter, so I've been told.
    From the back of the store, I carried myself sadly through the place in the local mall. I found my father and my older sister, Liz, sitting oon a light tan wooden bench. Shiffling my feet over to them, I sat down next to my sister, sighing even deeper.
    "I can't find a pair of jeans that fit me.. I tried on a nine and they still didn't fit. I feel fat," I said lightly, almost in a whisper.
    "You are fat," Liz interjected. "Do you realize--"
    After having such a bad night shopping, what my sister said to me really hurt. Before she could finish speaking, I picked up my coat and hoodie, swiftly leaving her company. I didn't get far before tears welled up in my eyes, flowing down onto my cheeks like a waterfall. I realized that I'd stopped by an escalator leading to the lower level and held onto the glass gate that prevented people from falling. As much as I tired not to cry, I couldn't stop the tears that ran down my face.
    Sighing, headed back to my dad and Kaley, who is not blood related, but she's like my little sister. Sitting down, I ignored my sister who was looming over me like a ghost. She really had no right to call me fat, seeing as how she is clearly over 200 pounds.
    "I don't fit into any of my jeans!" she spat at me, giving me the deadliest glare I'd ever seen. "At least--" she stopped as her boyfriend, Josh, pulled her away. They both walked away as I sat ther, crying like a young child who had just lost their puppy. I felt my dad's arm as he drpaed it over my shoulder, softly rocking me back and forth to calm me down, though it really didn't have any effect.
    It took about ten minutes to finally convince me to get up so we could leave. The bad thing was that my sister was driving me back to my dad's house. As we walked, I pulled out my purple Samsung Messenger 2 cellular phone and dialed my boyfriend's number.
    'Hello?" he answered
    "Hey... How are you?" I asked, my voice wavering with every breath.
    "Good, how about you?"
    There was a short pause before I finally squeaked, "Not good,"
    I explained to him what had just occurred a few minutes prior. I couldn't stop my tears.

    (Not much happened after that.. My sister drove me to my dads and dropped me off. There was long, awkward, and tense silence the entire way home. I guess I just am really depressed now. I don't think I'm fat, but both of my sisters have called me fat.. Should I believe them?)