Why?

Author's Note: As said in the description, a story I wrote during the Stanford Writing Programme which rekindled my love for writing. Please rate and reviews are greatly appreciated.



“The only thing harder than getting in is staying in.” this quote by Lisi Harrison describes my experience in Secondary 3.



“Let’s go!” Nicole ordered, back facing us. All four of us instantly got up and followed her, like obedient dogs. We were a pack of wolves, inseparable and were close-knit with no new members added into the group. Everything was the same from our tied up hairstyle to our choice of Nike school shoes. We were the ones who rose above others whether it was talent, looks or wealth. We have been like this since we were two year old toddlers, clad in our cotton pajamas of all colours, already developing our talents.



Nicole suddenly whirled around and said, “Except for you Jessica.” I was in shock; my brain was immediately swamped with possible reasons of why Nicole had said such a thing. What did I do? I have done nothing wrong. Nicole had always been such a good friend, the one who was protective of all of us and never would I have expected her to say such things.



“Look at yourself, what do you see?” Nicole asked me, looking at my dumbfounded expression. Nicole glanced at me up and down, starting from my black orbs to my hands that was placed at my back, fidgeting and my feet that were pointing inwards, she gave me a sinister sneer. When I did not answer and just gaped, Nicole said, “Pinch your stomach for just a minute.” I did what I was told. I did not see any problems with myself or my stomach.



“You have gone flabby, that definitely isn’t acceptable.” Nicole said folding her arms across her chest, the other cult members did the same and gave me the same witch-like expression. I stared, thinking of the times at home where I would take a freezing carton of Chocolate Häagen Diaz ice cream; sit on the yellow mustard coloured sofa and shovel spoonfuls of heaven into my mouth. Being someone in the top ranks can be stressful, expected to have a perfect life; Grades that no one could beat, clothes that everyone wanted and a special talent. What is mine? Singing. Singing has always been my strong point, whenever I am in doubt, a song would play in my head and usually I would know what to do next. Music was my inspiration. You might wonder why only now am I eating like how a whale would and that is because the auditions for our upcoming solo performances were coming up and I am nervous. Hence, I turned to food. Food was my savior, especially comfort food, macaroni with mozzarella cheese baked at exactly 350 degrees, peanut butter and jam sandwiches, I especially liked the stickiness of peanut butter. Food is how I cope with my stress; you cannot blame me because of that.



“The auditions are coming and I just started eating a little more than usual.” I said, biting on my chapped lips.



“No problem.” Nicole said, her harsh demeanor suddenly disappeared and she became warm towards me, or so I thought. “Continue eating, but you’re out.” My heart dropped into my stomach. I felt like a loser. Out? This is an atrocity; no one has been ‘out’ before! They all turned around and stalked off leaving me, my flab and what was left of my dignity.



Now, every time I walked pass crowds of people, they would be murmuring, huddling in their little circle of friends, pointing and giving me looks of disgust. The news spread as fast as the H1N1 disease and by the next day of school? Everyone knew about it, even the janitor. No one to sit with during lunch. No one to talk to when I need advice. No one to laugh with. I had no one. This was going to change.



I locked the plastic grey door of the cubicle behind me, sat down on and just stared, the seat feeling hard against my bottom. Then, the toilet door burst open with a loud boom, giggles of preppy school girls were heard, gossiping about me. My eyes moved all over the door which was filled with multi-coloured graffiti. The fluorescent light shone above me turning my already pale complexion to it becoming even whiter. I fingered my pleated white skirt and I glanced down at my laced up shoes. Am I really thinking of putting my health in danger? Just for acceptance? Why am I thinking like that? Of course I am! I will prove to all those who have laughed at me that I still am my popular self and that was just a setback. I tell you, I am going to be skinny.