When I got home, I slammed the door and ran straight upstairs to my room. My workaholic parents are never home before nine pm, so as usual, I had the house to myself. I stepped in the shower, hoping all the pain and humiliation would wash away. Unfortunately, they didn't, and neither did the gum in my hair.

    Just like with most things I love, I had to say goodbye to my hair. Each snip cut away at my already disintegrated self esteem. When I was done, I looked even more like a potato, which made me cry again. While I let loose loud sobs that sounded like a whale trying to get laid, I heard the doorbell ring. I froze- was it the mailman, bringing the Nicholas Cage print sneakers I ordered last week?

    Trying to look like I had a modicum of sanity, I made my way downstairs and opened the door to bloody Jemma. Like literally, she had blood on her white crop top.

I gasped. "Jemma are you ok?"

She waved her hand in dismissal. "I'm fine. This is Dillon's blood."

"They let you leave school early?"

"Yeah I kind of got suspended for breaking Dickllon Cunt's nose. My parents are going to kill me, but it was worth it."

"Jemma, I am so sorry, you didn't need to do that for me."

"Oh I wanted to. I've honestly wanted to do that for so long."

I let Jemma in, and gave her a T shirt to change into, except it was a short dress on her. Actually, she looked pretty good in it, so I told her to keep it. An ironic hooters shirt would be an impractical choice of clothing for a llama dealer in Peru.

    "Kim, don't do anything rash," she says. "Come on, let's make some shrimp mac n cheese."

    Jemma knows me better than I know myself. She is an amazing cook, who believes that food is always the answer. We always have a lot of fun cooking together. Normally, I'd be so down for that but not today.

    "No thank you. I don't want to get even fatter. I'm so sick of being ugly."

    Jemma grabbed my shoulders, almost painfully. "Don't you dare think like that," she said, an angry edge to her voice.

I know what's coming. Angry Jemma leads to speeching Jemma. Oh and I guess face punching Jemma if you're Dillon.

"First of all, not being thin is not a crime. It's a hard concept for the Neanderthals at Wesley to grasp, but you can be not thin, heck even fat, and still be gorgeous. I think you're pretty, but even if you weren't, so what? Not beautiful people are just as valuable as pretty ones, even if society says otherwise. I know you think I'm just saying this because I'm your friend, but you're honestly really fucking cool, and I feel sorry for the fucktards who won't see that. Now get your ass over here and help me with this mac n cheese! One bowl isn't going to make a difference."

I guess she's right, one bowl probably won't make a difference. Before cooking however, we decided to check out our favorite meme page, run by some sarcastic British pilot dude who's been strangely absent for a while. His memes were chicken soup for my fatass soul.

As we ate the delicious, gooey shrimp mac n cheese, we laughed over stupid things and stabbed "Dillon" pickles with a kitchen knife. Soon, I began to feel more like my usual sunshiny unicorn self. As the day's events slowly made their way to the back of my mind, I was able to think clearly.

    "Jemma, I'm going to ask my parents to give me a plastic surgery."

    Jemma dropped the dill pickle fragment she was holding. "Kim..."

    "Jemma I can't live like this anymore. I want to be happy. I want to change myself."

    "You don't have to change, Kim."

    "Jemma I really don't have a choice. It's time for me to transform from Gatz to Gatsby. I am going to reinvent myself, and everything I couldn't do before. I need to take charge of my life and do what I want."

    She stared at me for a while. "Well.... if you really want to, then I go for it I guess, but once you do it, you can't go back. And good luck trying to get your parents to agree to it."

    She had a point. After Jemma left, I sat in my room, creating a detailed PowerPoint presentation to convince my parent to make me pretty. I think they owed it to me, to be quite honest, since they failed at making me pretty when they first created me.

    At nine pm, I heard them enter downstairs. With my stomach in knots, and laptop in hand, I slowly made my way down to the living room.

    "Eomma, appa, I need to tell you something important."

    They froze in the middle of putting their coats away.

    "You got a B in maths?" Asks my dad, looking slightly panicked.

    "No."

    "B in physics?" Offers mom, her surgically altered eyes wide.

    "No its not about grades." They let out a collective sigh of relief.

    Heart pumping, tears forming in my eyes, I told them everything. They listened, looking at each other every so often. And then I got to my proposition.

    "I really want plastic surgery. Please, make me thin, and fix my face."

    "No," says my father firmly.

    My shoulders slumped. I was in the process of fast forwarding my power point to slide 17 when I realized he wasn't done talking.

    "We can't do it in the US, too many rules and regulations for minors. We send you to Korea next week. You can stay with your aunt and uncle, and we know some friends who can perform the surgery on you."

    My mother was nodding, looking excited. "You can practice your Korean while you're there!"

    My heart leapt. All my problems were about to vanish, and I didn't even need to get to phase 3 of the PowerPoint. Crying tears of joy, I hugged my parents and texted Jemma the good news.

    I packed for Korea that very night, already thinking about my life as a pretty girl. But for now, I was still this.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Wow thanks for 300 reads! Tomorrow will be the one week anniversary of the day I joined wattpad and I've really enjoyed my time here!