I remember when I realized it was going to be a problem.
We were finshing up Summer exams, and all of my friends were going to the beach. Without thinking it through I said yes, next thing I know I'm at the beach. All the girls in their bathing suits and bikinis, being stared at by all the boys. I sat and pondered how it would feel to be stared at like that. How it would feel to be wanted. I kept my eyes on all their scareless bodies, how pure and firm their skin was. Their perfectly gaped legs and stomachs that were as thin as toothpicks. I enyved it. They ran to the sparking cool water, boys flirting with them, pushing them into the water and splashing them. I stood and took off my sweater which had been perfectly fitted to my wrists for the cold, long Winter, reviling scared and burnt arms. And my tight fitting jeans were taken off only to see cuts. And my stomach not flat, and my legs not gaped. And I could feel as I walked down the beach, just like I could feel the sand among my feet, the stares of disgust from mothers. Who took their children to the beach to have and not see the results of parents who didn't care, and kids in their twentys. Whispering that I couldn't know what depression is. I'm only a kid.Children around the ages of nine, only staring at me in utter confusion. And worstly, what seemed to hurt most. Was the stares of my friends and the stares of the boys that invited me to come. Because they wanted me to, regardless of how my body is. And of course, there's always one. One stupid idiot who doesn't know when to keep their mouth shut;
"You're skin is so ugly!"They screamed,loud enough for the pain and embrassment to last for years.