My mother's forcing me to go to school. She had some what of an understanding that I was being tyrannized once more in my life. And, as I stood in this elevator with zero confidence for the day, I wondered if I should just skip.

"Uh, hey Frankie. You alright?" It was Mickey Mouse.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just tired," I dully answered back before heavily sighing.

"Mm. You look different today. I mean like, compared to what I've seen you wearing before."

"Yeah well," I didn't know where I was going with that sentence. "Things change I guess." I told him.

I had a gray sweat suit on. It was oversized and extremely comfortable. Usually I'm wearing something fashionable or something but don't really feel the need to. People probably just stared and laughed anyway. Ouu look at her. The fatass who thinks she actually looks good. Pathetic.

"Hey, hey, hey, don't cry. You wanna talk," Mickey Mouse grabbed my arm. Just then, the elevator doors opened and we were in the lobby.

I hesitated talking to him after all my thoughts yesterday. But, I guess now I needed someone to talk to more than ever. And it definitely wasn't about to be Samantha or my mom.

"I just, I don't want to go to school today. There all just going to stare and laugh at me like the pathetic loser than I am," I cried out.

Few seconds later I was being pulled into a big muscly hug. "Don't worry about them. They don't decide, create, or destroy your beauty. Your beauty comes from you and that's it. I know you look at me and think I don't understand but I know what it's like to be bullied or taunted for something you that may or may not be in your control. But you can't just let those people bring you down," he still had me in a hug while we were sitting on the floor if the lobby.

Control.

Control played a big part. Something you may or may not be able to control.

Those words just replayed in my head. It sounded dickish but then he was right. Weight can be something that some people can and cannot control. For me, it all depends. Sure I've lost a lot of weight and understand the importance of control but you can't always hold yourself back. Especially when eating is your coping mechanism. I might limit myself but then my mood changes and I'm all they way through a big family size potato chip bag.

"Now, your going to get up. Take this stupid hood of your head, and walk in that school and mentally beat the shit out of them. Okay?" His words made me laugh but also made me feel good a little.

"Okay," I said smiling, tears were starting to dry away.

He helped me up, which is like damn he's strong, he helped me up and we walked to the entrance/exit.

"You taking the bus?" He asked with his arm around my shoulder.

"Yup. I'm too scared to drive. You?"

"Yeah, I drive but my car isn't here yet so I'm taking the bus too."

***

Well, I was a block away from my school. Not going to lie, I was pretty upset still but something, or someone, told me to not worry about them. They don't create who I am and I shouldn't let them.

...

I was finally at my school's entrance. Kids were standing outside but they didn't seem to notice me.

I hesitated to open the door. When I did, everyone's eyes were on me. I even saw Samantha giving me a small smile. Can't with her. Acting like everything is perfect but she helped humiliate me. She should be ashamed of herself.

I did my best to ignore the staring but some people called out "Fatty Frankie," and made heavy sound effects as I walked to my locker. I wanted to turn back and run away but I needed to remember that I create me, not them.

Buzz buzz.
Buzz buzz.

Mickey Mouse🐭: Is everything ok?

We exchanged phone numbers while we were on the bus. We both were kind of friend less at the moment so why not?

Me: People are staring, making noises, and calling me names. I almost ran but I remembered your wise words. Thank you.

I smiled as I wrote that text and I guess it gave Samantha the perfect opportunity to talk.

"Hey uh, why so smiley," she softly and quietly said. In response, I rolled my eyes and just read the next text message.

Mickey Mouse 🐭: Aw no problem. I hate bullies. Never was really a fan of them.

Me: why were you bullied?

Mickey Mouse 🐭: never really liked talking about it but since you told me your story, I'll tell you mine. Well, there were a few reasons. One being that people saw I had no friends. They laughed at me a called me a loser. And well, no one wanted to be friends with the cancer kid. I had leukemia when I was younger. I got cured for it during my last year in hell. People said I should kill myself to get it over with. And most times I'd get beat up for it. Plus, the kid with a balled head, destined to be targeted.

"Oh my god," I whispered to myself. I felt so bad. I wanted to cry. While I'm crying and complaining about what people thought of my size, he was being bullied for having a deadly disease. People are cruel.

Me: I'm in tears. I'm so sorry. Literally just makes me feel stupid that I'm crying over something like my weight but you literally were put in a life or death situation.

Mickey Mouse 🐭: Nah. It's ok. And don't cry because of me 😹 it was in the past. Your problem is in the present. Insecure or not, people should learb to except people for there flaws, or in my eyes to you, beauty. Do you know how many girls have said they didn't want to date me because they didn't want cancer or for there kids to have it? It's funny thinking about it now. But yeah, don't let them ruin you ok? I'll talk to you later Frank. Bye.

Tehe, did he just call me Frank?