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Story of a Stranger
When things start to hit you hard all at once, you begin drifting further and further from your self. You become a stranger.
Age 15
To me, at first, Lucas was just another hotheaded boy who thought he was so cool. We talked every once in a while though. He was a little shorter than I was, maybe two inches, and he wasn't exactly in shape either. He seemed to have this problem that made his thighs huge. But he was still pretty cute.

The first time I really got to know him was at a dance. He asked me to dance at one song, and then gave me his phone number. I didn't text him at all until a few weeks later on a trip with my family to Arizona during spring break. After that, we couldn't go a day without texting each other.

It was around May that I realized I had a crush on him. He was nice, and funny, and one of the only people who actually enjoyed talking to me. Then I found out from a friend that he had a crush on my too. The last week of May we told each other so. Only he said we couldn't officially be a couple since I wasn't 16 yet. He was.

During this time, I began having some issues with my family. My parents started fighting a lot, my brother, Kade decided he was going to go against everything my parents told him. There was a lot of throwing things and hitting and yelling. I couldn't even walk out of my room without hearing someone shouting at someone else for some stupid reason.

As you can imagine, I looked like hell a lot. I was tired from lack of sleep due to long study hours, I was upset all the time from only being accepted on certain terms by the people I called friends, and the fighting only added on to that.

Lucas noticed I was looking a little off. One day he decided to ask what was wrong. I told him I was just tired. He kept pressing the issue until finally after two weeks I just broke down and told him everything. He never answered my text.

He didn't answer for almost another week. When he finally did, it was to tell me he couldn't handle people like me, I was too needy and clingy, and he just didn't like me anymore. I was heartbroken.

I figured him leaving me like that really had nothing to do with how I acted, and it was really how I looked. I got online again just to research the ideal American girl. I found out that not only do you need to have a good fashion taste, you had to be pretty and skinny. Neither of which I was. I started buying makeup and learning what ways look best on me. I also had my parents get me a membership at a gym.

I found out I looked pretty good with heavy mascara and thick eyeliner under my eyes. I also got some bleach for my hair and dyed my bangs blonde. I felt better, but I was still 190 pounds. My goal was to be 145. I would be skinny, pretty, smart, and I would have a good personality. Maybe people would actually like me then.





 
 
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