Rebecca and the Ever Shrinking Society
Rebecca with a life as good as the next, Rebecca with a
perfect home and perfect family, Rebecca that should not feel the
way she does, Rebecca who walks past her mirror never looking
inside, Rebecca who does not acknowledge her chubby pale cheeks
or dirt colored hair, who steps at the bottom of her stairs and
straightens her posture and puts a smile to her once long face.
Rebecca who skips breakfast and decides to walk to school,
who sucks in when strangers walk by. She smiles confidently as she
enters the buzzing beehive of a school. Envies as her friends greet
her, regretting, cause like yesterday, she skipped breakfast and
still does not look the same as the long blonde, slender zero,
hilarious friends that adore her. As she walks to the restroom
never making eye contact with herself but shuffles hurriedly to the
next unoccupied stall.
Rebecca inside her size medium flannel, inside the size six
hollister high waisted jeans that must cover her biggest fear,
inside the one hundred forty pound teenager body with disgust
behind her eyes, with a family that supports, friends that care,
love that she bathes in, but hatred in the reflection, Rebecca with
the image in her mind but disappointment in her heart.
by: Deborah Walton