LivingThroughSocietysEyes

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Joined: October 10, 2011
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Living through society's eyes

What would you do as your life falls apart and no one is around to help you put it together? Would you let yourself fall like your life or would you try and make everything seem okay? For Brianna, she pretends everything is okay while a burning hatred for her self image is growing inside of her.

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Quotes by LivingThroughSocietysEyes

Living Through Society's Eyes 
  
 Chapter Two
           With shaky knees, she walks to her worst enemy. Face to face with her reflection, she pinpoints all of her flaws: her pale skin, dark lips, brown eyes, brunette hair and freckles. She wanted to be beautiful: tanned skin, blonde hair, blue eyes and flawless, glowing skin. Her small chest corresponded with her even smaller lower half that made tight jeans sag on her. She flexed her nonexistent muscles and looked at her drooping skin. The engraved bracelet that read Brianna was worn with shame. It laid on her wrist without movement. Brianna found herself always having to move it down so it seems like there was some space for it to move it around her wrist. Her reflection, the only thing that would look at her back with truth in her eyes, made her sick. Her knees fell to the ground and she surrendered to what her stomach wanted. The little food that she did eat that day was gone in a matter of seconds. She rested her weak head on the side of the toilet seat above a towel she folded as a pillow. Her tears made splashes as they fell down into the toilet. A shaky hand reached for the handle, and with one last reached, she succeeded. Brianna hit the floor with a delicate whimper. For Brianna, laying down in a cool bathroom floor was easier than trying to get up and walk back to her room.
Living Through Society's Eyes 
  
 Chapter One
           She locks herself in her room and let the tears rain down. Images of models and athletes flash in her mind. Her fist slams down on the ground in anger and regret as the tears of sorrow fall to the ground. Hyperventilating, she finds the strength the stand up and walk to the mirror, only to fall back down at the sight of her own body. Stressed out and overwhelmed, she rushes towards the box under her bed and grabs her past enemy to alleviate the pain growing in her heart. She allows her arm to fall on the rug, knowing the mess it makes will be easy to clean up. Her head falls back in relief. The tears on her face are dried and her breathing becomes steadier. She allows the blood to leave her wrist and her body to become numb. Disoriented and unfocused, she quickly grabs her backup towel and applies pressure to her lower arm. The pain has finally left her body. 
            Her feet quickly move towards her door. Quietly, she cracks the door to
know the coast is clear. She grabs her towel and move towards the bathroom. Her hand is shaky as she puts the towel underneath the faucet and lets the cold water fill the cloth. She puts the towel down, still submerged in the water, and grabs a bandage and the tube medicine. While she takes the wrapper off the bandage, she makes sure she doesn't make a sound. She unscrews the medicine cap, applies it over the wound and secures it with the bandage. She takes her wrappers and flushes them down the toilet. This routine was something she was so accustomed to that it was almost second nature. She sets herself on the rim of her bathtub with her head in her hand as she whispers to herself, "I promised myself last time that I wouldn't do it again."