Disclaimer: Not mine.

Ugly

.: I pull you from your tower, take away your pain.

Show you all the beauty you possess, if only you let yourself believe. :.

(I believe that I am ugly.)

The school building looms akin to an intimidating monster as I step off the school bus. Students mill about, filling every seen corner of the compound. I take a deep breath, summoning every bit of courage that I have as I step foot through the front doors.

It's been a while since I last attended school.

Even then, I was hardly liked.

I admit that I had many acquaintances.

But no friends.

I have never had any friends.

Kindness was something that was shown to me sparingly by my peers.

My heart beats erratically at the thought of what they might do to me now.

My eyes spot a few of my classmates. I try to give them my brightest smile.

But they turn their backs as soon as they see me coming.

Because I'm just not pretty.

To them, I am nothing more than an eyesore.

I make an effort to walk confidently to my next class. With my head held high, I take a few steps forward.

I only manage a few, because someone forcefully pushes me into the wall of lockers that line the hallways.

Because I'm just not beautiful.

I hold back my tears even though every inch of my body is in pain.

I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing my eyes take a bath.

I turn on my heel and head to my classroom. But as I make my way down the hallway through throngs of students, I cannot help but be plagued by jealousy.

Why are you so beautiful?

And then it hits me.

Though I fervently hope otherwise, I know that I am the problem.

Why am I so ugly?

.: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. :.

(But no one wants to look at me.

Not even myself. )

I have the misfortune to walk past a mirror. Tentatively, my gaze flits about to get a glimpse of my reflection.

Because I am scared of what I might see.

But it is much worse than that. Because even though I glare at the contraption for the longest time, I still do not observe anything.

I see nothing.

I am nothing.

.: Joy is the best makeup. :.

(But I have nothing to be happy about.)

Students part like the Red Sea as Ms. Popular goes by with her entourage and the members of her personal fanclub trail behind her like puppies chasing after a bone. They walk past me as though I am invisible.

And the truth is that I am.

Because next to her, I fade into the background.

It is like I am never there in the first place.

My existence is non-existent.

She smiles, her teeth dazzlingly white, especially since it contrasts with her vermillion lips so much.

I cannot help but think that I want to be pretty. Pretty just like her.

Then maybe—just maybe—someone will look at me.

Because the only way for someone to exist is for others to acknowledge them.

A torrent of emotions builds up inside me as I watch her, but above all, I feel sad.

What must I do to be able to smile so brightly like you?

Rage blooms in my heart as I see them disappear into the distance.

Why am I so ugly?

.: The world is full of lies. :.

(And the sad truth is that fiction is so much more appealing than fact.)

Albeit I want to think that people talk to me because they are nice, I know that that is not the truth.

Because even though a doctored reality is beautiful, the ugly pain it causes once you snap back to your senses is just too much to bear.

They try to strike up conversations with me, but I shoot down all of their attempts.

They are just trying to judge me.

I avert my eyes as they talk to me because I am scared.

The cold thorns that hide beneath their patronizing gazes terrify me.

"You have nice hair."

I purposely style it that way to hide my appalling face.

"That's such a cute outfit!"

It has to be to hide my shapeless body.

"Aren't you ever going to wear a skirt?"

And show you all my scars? I don't think so.

"Isn't it too hot to be wearing a long-sleeved top?"

The burn of being the butt of your jokes is much worse.

They repeat their 'compliments'.

As though repeating it will make it seem more believable.

They try to act convincing, but the look in their eyes give them away. I would be a fool to believe them because I know that they share my exact thoughts.

And I am anything but.

Their sweet words are laced with poison.

If I am not careful, I will just end up in more pain.

.: It is what is on the inside that counts. :.

(But I am rotten to the core.)

I want so much for someone to look at me; to see something—anything—in me.

But not like this. Because if you are going to look at me like that, I would much rather be invisible to your prying eyes.

Don't look at me.

It feels as though you're reading me; like you can see right through me.

But all that you're looking for is my ugliness.

I cower in fear on the inside, because all I am is ugly.

I hate this feeling.

Stop it! ...Please...

My pleas fall on deaf ears. You do not heed my cries.

I want to escape so badly.

I run out the door, going somewhere—anywhere—as long as it is away from you.

You give chase and corner me before telling me that you understand me.

Don't tell me such lies.

I see the cold layer of ice hiding beneath your warm façade. Just like how you can see through me, I too am able to perceive what is underneath the underneath your quiet eyes.

Please. Just go away.

Because my ugly and crooked heart might come to resent you even more.

Because you do not understand the ugliness that is my very being.

You don't know what it feels like to be a failure when the people depending on you need you to succeed the most.

My vision clouds with tears at the thought of my brothers. My body starts convulsing with sobs that echo around the courtyard.

Why can't I do something right?

Why can't I ever be perfect?

Why am I so ugly?

.: Beauty is simply reality seen with the eyes of love. :.

(But no one loves me.)

You leave once I have my breakdown because you have gotten what you wanted.

To make me feel worse; uglier than before.

A pang of emotion hits me in the gut as I look around.

Because next to me, there is no one that can give me a warm embrace when I need it the most.

This feeling is so familiar.

Loneliness.

It is at times like this that I hate déjà vu.

I am alone once again.

I have been through this so many times before.

I am always all alone.

There is no one beside me, and though I tell myself not to care, it still hurts so much.

I shiver as passersby send me cold looks and even end up tripping because I am not paying attention to where I am walking.

No one offers me a hand.

From the corner of my eye, I see them crowd around a hurt bird that has suddenly appeared after ricocheting off a wall.

In their eyes, the bird takes precedence over me.

According to them, the bird is more beautiful.

I get up shakily and clutch a railing for support. I limp back to class in order to retrieve my bag.

I cannot take it anymore.

The world is such a cold place.

There is no warmth.

.: Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes clean to the bone. :.

(Beauty is not in the face; it is a light in the heart.

It is as much in the mind as it is in the eyes.)

I sling my bag over my shoulder and leave unnoticed.

As always.

With all of my burns and my intellect, I stand out too much. I do not fit society's perception of beauty. People make fun of me wherever I go.

Even now— after driving me into my own personal hellhole— they do not cease their awful treatment of me.

I don't think they ever will.

They point and laugh at me as though I am a monster. And as I wallow in my bitter thoughts, it is as though the opaque mist that has been veiling my eyes for so long has been removed.

Who is the real monster?

A smile lights up my face. I straighten my back and walk confidently back to my class; into the lion's den where I am sure they will maul my spirit even more.

I tune out the gossip of the onlookers and am oblivious to their caustic remarks.

Why am I so ugly?

I finally have an answer.

I am ugly because I am beautiful.

A/N: Hi, people! I'm back! :D Did you miss me? *takes in the echoing silence*

… I'll take that as a no.

Pros: exams are over! Yay! Cons: I think my writing has gotten rusty. Horrors! Or maybe I'm just not good at girl angst… I hope this one-shot made sense. I think it's pretty straightforward. People think they're ugly and are condemned by society for not fitting in, whereas in truth the only ugly ones are those who condemn.

I made some changes after Kaye reviewed. I wasn't particularly happy about it either, but reading her review was what spurred me into giving this one-shot reconstructive surgery. Haha. :) So thanks, Kaye. :D

This was inspired by… eh eh eh eh eh eh eh 2NE1! I'm still spazzing about their new song, 'Ugly'! Finally, a song that's catchy and completely relatable! It brought back so many memories of insecurity and loneliness that I went through as a schoolgirl. So when I heard the song and read the lyrics, I promised myself that I'd write something about it. (Though I think this is like an epic fail. And now I'm depressed because I feel like a bad author. Blarghhh!)

I didn't use many synonyms this time around. I think ugly is a strong enough word, and it has a broad context. Not just ugly in appearance but in attitude, etc. Or should I change the words? Opinion?

As always, tell me what you like/dislike/etc. Awesome people review!

Bye!