I think I speak the truth when I say that most women hate themselves to varying degrees, myself included. That's why a lot of us wear makeup. Not all women, obviously, but for a fuck ton of us, it's 'cause we hate the way our real selves look. 'Cause we ask for this perfection in ourselves that we don't even look for in men. And men sure as hell don't care whether we wear makeup or not. Hell, most dudes hate that shit. It's us. All us.

Why do I hate myself? For everything, really. For what I've done. For all my flaws. For what I looked like before, for what I look like now. For who I am, basically. I hate myself for loving Jenny. Even though I know she'll never change. Even though I know she's homophobic. Even though she is by all means a shit person. Yet I don't hate her. I wish I did. Even right now, I miss her. People tell you to move on from those who've hurt you, but they don't know how hard it is to forget the good. All those times that person made you laugh. All the times that person was there for you. It's hard.

Ironically, I feel way shittier now that I'm beautiful. 'Cause when you look flawless, the smallest imperfection destroys you. And you depend too much on outside opinions. Like, if you go outside and dudes in a ten-mile radius haven't gawked at you for more than ten minutes, you immediately wonder "is there something wrong with me? Do I look uglier today?". And on top of that, there's all the leftover insecurities from back when I was ugly.

Like how whenever groups of young people pass me by and they're laughing, I always wonder if they're laughing at me. Are they making fun of me? Is it because I'm ugly? And of course, there's all the fun mental stuff. Like thinking that you don't deserve to be loved. I mean, I defo don't deserve that shit now, but I thought this way before making the website, even. Creating that shit just made the whole thing even worse, you know?

But yeah, when you're ugly and you know it you don't have all that – 'cause you know you're ugly. Your condition is stable. You're not the pretty girl, you're the smart girl. People can classify you, so in a really weird way, life is just easier.

But when you suddenly become pretty, what then? It's like the caterpillar from the cartoon Alice in Wonderland movie: Who. Are. You? I saw it again when I was high once, and that one line just fucked with me. I think about it a lot now.

Who am I? I don't know. I'm a beautiful girl I guess, no? So, when that goes away, what else do you have left? Well you're back to being utter trash. You're ugly. And when you're ugly, you're basically worthless.

I think all that, sometimes. Like the thoughts get overwhelming and shit just gets so dark. It's like I'm sinking. Again and again. And the hole just keeps getting deeper and deeper. I keep waiting to hit the bottom, but I never do. Feels like I'll never get out.

Renny? and in the midst of it all, there's Jenny, sometimes. Like that time we were supposed to meet at a coffee shop in front of her building, and she couldn't find me.

"Renny?" I heard her distinctively but said nothing. I was crying, locked in one of the bathroom stalls, in the middle of a panic attack. I had a huge ass pimple that I kept scratching, and now I had a fucking wound on my cheek. Something which couldn't be hidden with makeup.

Disgusting. I looked disgusting. She'd hate me. I wasn't pretty anymore. Jenny would stop being my friend.

"Renny..? Are you there?" I was trying to breathe and cry silently, but it was difficult.

André. His name always popped up in my head when I was having a panic attack, or when I was about to have one. I don't know why. And I'd grab my head with both hands and sit on the floor. It was always like this. The voice in my head was always wailing when it'd call his name. Almost like a child calling for its mother.

The stall opened. I forgot to lock it. Fuck.

"Renny..!" Jenny found me there, crying on the floor in a public restroom, inside the handicapped stall. I was a mess. My eyes were probs red, I was sniffing, and an army of tears was falling down my face, lightly stinging the fucking wound on my left cheek.

I'll never forget her reaction then. Her face softened and she ran up to me before leaning by my side.

"Baby, what's wrong?" I cried twice as hard, covering my face.

"I'm hideous! My face is fucked up!"

"Let me see ..." she gently pulled my hands away from my face before laughing. "Is that what you're crying about?!"

"I couldn't hide it with makeup. I look hideous. I thought you ..." I realized how silly it sounded as I was saying it. "I thought you wouldn't wanna be my friend anymore if you saw me like this."

"Seriously, Renny? You look fine! That's nothing! Some antiseptic cream, a bandaid, and your face will be back to normal in like two days! And you're still beautiful, silly!"

Silly. André used to call me that a lot.

Jenny wiped my tears. My hiccups were starting to quiet down and my breathing was slowly getting back to normal. The tears were also stopping.

I couldn't believe she was touching my face. It made me so happy. But yeah. I guess it's kind of crazy the type of shit that comes back to you when you're in an interrogation room.

Funny, ain't it?

--

Renny ...

"Renny!" I snapped out of my memory. Things were getting ... hazy. Dull. Like a fog. Does that make sense?

"And the last victim – "

"Rosa Martinez." I sounded tired. I guess I was. I always am, nowadays. Everything's always blurry, lifeless. The colors seem greyer with each passing day. Like that. I'm sure some of you know exactly what I'm talking about. Like you're walking towards something far away. Or like you're about to jump into a pit and no matter how hard you try to stop the fall, you just keep falling, faster and faster.

"Can you tell us about her, Renny?"

"Sure." Rosa, the only one I really related to out of all the girls. Rosa knew exactly what it was like to fall.

That's why she jumped off that bridge.

--

And another sad chapter! This one gives us a lot of info, as it further showcases why exactly Renny fell for Jenny. It also mentions the final victim and my personal favorite out of all of them, Rosa Martinez. Have any of you ever felt self-loathing to that degree? Have you ever felt as insecure as Renny felt in this chapter? If so, why? Let me know in the comments and don't forget to vote and add Morbid to your reading list!