Inside my head

A writing exercise done from a photo in the paper, writing the thoughts of that person. This image was a young girl looking at herself in a mirror.

Inside My Head

Ugh, my nose is so flat. It’s flat and broad. I’m sure everyone stares at it when they’re talking to me. I want to cover it with my hand so that they can’t see it anymore. When I’m older, I’m going to get a nose job. It’s by far my worst feature, though I’ve certainly got heaps of bad ones.

My breasts are especially unimpressive. I have none. Even my father noticed, and he notices nothing about me. When I was going out with Jenny on Friday night, he said, “Terrie, what on Earth are you wearing?! No boys can see you dressed like that. You look like a prostitute. Besides, it’s not like you have the bust to pull it off. Go and change now!”

All of this in front of Jenny. I’ve never been so embarrassed. I know he’s right. I’m completely without, but Mum bought that halter top for me last week. She was so excited about it and made me feel confident enough to wear it. In fact, I was looking forward to the dance because of it. Maybe some guy would finally notice me, but I ended up hiding in the shadows. Mum argued with Dad so I was able to wear the top, but I knew I looked silly. So I made sure no one saw me.

When I got home, Mum wanted to hear all about it. I brushed her off. Dad was there, and I didn’t want to tell him he was right.

Why do I even have a mirror? There’s nothing worth looking at. It just reminds me of everything that’s wrong with me. I look again, and nothing's improved.