I hate myself so much.

I stepped on the black, seemingly innocent-looking scale.

I gained five more pounds.

I clenched my fists. It's just a number, I shouldn't be this worried, it's just a dumb number that doesn't mean anything--

but it's not just a number.

It's so much more than that.

I tore my eyes away and stepped off the scale to turn towards the sink. The large mirror in the bathroom came into view, a full-blown image of myself for me to see.

It was revolting. I looked miserable.

Acne covered my red face with large pores, circles under my eyes, my double chin visible, my chapped lips cracking, and don't even get me started on my body.

Without lifting up my shirt, I could easily tell how round my stomach was.

My thighs were humongous too, and my arms looked like aunt Sally's. She was an old woman, always sitting around and barking out orders to her grandchildren.

Mom said to not become like her.

I failed.

I felt my eyes brimming with tears.

God, why am I so ugly?

I leaned closer towards the mirror to try to find something to appreciate, but my slightly big nose and red eyes stared back at me.

Can't believe you think you're pretty sometimes.

The tears finally fell.

My eyesight blurred.

And all of a sudden I felt like I was in a dark pit; lost and tired, scared and frustrated for falling down in the first place. It was all my fault, of course it was, if I just watched where I was going, maybe I wouldn't have fallen and gotten stuck, maybe I would've been up near the fields with the flowers, maybe I would've been okay—

My shoulders hunched forward as the dam broke with full force.

I pressed my hand against my mouth, my siblings were still out there, behind the door. They could hear me. I can't let that happen. I can't let them know.

So, I stood there, bent over the sink with legs that were about to give out as I bawled my eyes out.

Why did this have to happen to me? Why did I have to be so big?

Why can't the number just be lower?

Shudders escaped me.

I'm the older sister. I'm supposed to be the good example for them. They can't see me like this, they can't see their sister, who's now kneeling on the dirty bathroom floor, crying.

But they're going to come sooner or later, asking me to cut the-

Cake.

For a moment, I forgot the date. March 13, my birthday.

It made me all the more sad.

"Happy Birthday to me," I whispered.

I never wanted to hide away more than now, because then, I won't even have to face myself.

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

"Happy Birthday, Sunny!" my sister Lisa said. She had long brown hair with side bangs. I envied her, she was thin, while I was fat. She was pretty with cute cheeks and clear skin. She was the better sister.

"How does it feel to turn fifteen?" she asked.

"Good," I said, "but overall, the same. What, you expected me to mature all of a sudden?"

"Maybe," she said, and gave me a small smile, "but I hope you'll get dumber."

It was a playful competition between us. Who can get the most medals, most A's, most awards...

That was the only good quality of me. The only good quality that I could be proud of. I was "smart"

My sister had the looks, the talent, the brains, the kindness...

"At least I didn't fail the spelling bee on purpose." I retorted.

My sister whined, "You always bring that up! I was just nervous, okay?"

"¡Feliz cumpleaños hija!" my mom exclaimed, cutting off our banter.

A forced smile came onto my lips as mom handed me a sharp knife to cut the cake. The cake was simple. It was covered with a light layer of white frosting with some red roses on top.

I cut the cake and gave everyone a slice. My little brother frowned asking for a bigger slice that had a red rose swirl on it.

I don't think a six-year-old like you should be having this much sugar, I thought dimly.

Despite that, I still gave him a bigger slice and watched him walk to the couch with a smile. My thoughts couldn't help themselves.

How can he eat so much and stay at a normal weight? How?

It was my turn for a slice. Dread filled me. I cut a small slice and took a bite.

"Mmm so good," I whispered, as my family stared at me, taking a bite of their own pieces of cake.

"Can you cut me another one later?" my sister asked.

A fleeting thought left me.

Your so fricking lucky.

I nodded.

"Dad should be here soon, he went to the bakery." my mom said, "he's getting your favorites!"

A flicker of happiness sprouted on my chest, but was instantly destroyed by shame.

I already ate so much, why do I want it? I shouldn't want it. I shouldn't-

"Nice, tell him to get some cinnamon rolls!" I said, pushing another bite of cake into my mouth. That's what I would've said before starting this diet. I don't want anyone to know. It's...it's embarrassing. 

My mom squinted her eyes at me, "Okay, but make sure not to eat so much or your stomach will hurt. "

My eyes started to sting

That...that hurt.

Imagine if she knew this wasn't all I had. What will she think then? That I'm disgusting? Look at me in shame?

The smiles on their faces made everything so much worse. Their obliviousness to whatever the hell was going on with me hurt.

But it was for the best.

They can't find out. They won't find out.

I need to make sure of it.

----

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