Summary:

One-hundred forty-six pounds. I glance at the scale again as I groan softly. I look around at the bathroom, it’s as clean as freshly washed dishes. Everything is perfectly in line, in its own place. Then again, that’s how everything in this house is. Well, with the exception of me. I look in the mirror. I suck in my stomach, as far as it can go. It still looks big. Chunky. Fat. Yet another day of all of this. When I say all of this, I’m talking about my looks. My appearance. My body. Especially my body. Yeah, so I’m pretty insecure about it. But it’s better than having no arms or legs or something like that. Then I would be the person getting beat up. But, that’s not my role. My role is the beating up of other pipsqueaks. Giving back to them what they gave me. When I was younger, I got bullied a lot. My only comfort was eating. So I did a lot of it. Look at where it’s got me. Now, since I just hate myself so much, I take it out on other people. I know it sounds bad, but in the long run, it works out perfectly fine. They bullied me, so I bullied them.