Born to Be
Author: merekutt
Summary: I was never meant to beautiful, but then again, rules are meant to be broken and I was never really one for giving up. AU Sakumulti
Rating: T
A/N: Please give me some feedback when you finish the chapter, and comment who you would like Sakura to end up with! (Not too sure myself, haha)
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, however I do own the OC's that are in this chapter. A couple of them will be seen in later chapters, but it won't be for a good while. Anyway, again, Naruto + me = no own. ALSO! The picture used is not mine either :)
Chapter 1
I've always been a bit different than most of my classmates. I would like to have blamed it on my rather eccentric parents, but I know that I would just be lying to myself. Not to say that being unique isn't okay, but - ugh, I'm getting off topic.
The point is, I'm different. Odd. Unique. Crazy. Whatever adjective you can think of, I have probably been called it. I would like to say that it's my personality - I tend to be rather cynical, and maybe a little blunt sometimes. Maybe - but then I would be lying to myself again. I would relate the weird glances that I get more so to my looks. And no, I am not ridiculously gorgeous or anything.
Or gorgeous at all for that matter.
You see, I've always been a stickler for the unexplained. I love things that aren't defined by a little box - things that seem to have 3 edges, but when you pull back the covers, actually have 4. Maybe that wasn't a very good comparison, but what I'm trying to say is that I generally have a hard time accepting facts. Maybe that's why I have trouble in the sciences and maths, but that's besides the point.
In fact, there is really only one thing that I have wholeheartedly accepted. No ifs, ands, or buts:
I was never meant to be beautiful.
Exotic perhaps, but beautiful? Never.
The only thing that I particularly like about my features are my eyes. They're kind of an eery green color, sort of watery, but at the same time thick and deep. They tend to change shades in different lights, so I can't really say anything exactly. However, I have been told on multiple occasions that they are absolutely breathtaking. The problem is, not many people even notice them.
They just can't seem to get past my hair, which is a pastel pink color and falls a couple inches past my shoulders. It's in a perpetual greasy state, and tends to just look lifeless and dry. Beneath it lies a massive forehead (I only hold the hope that I will eventually grown into it), and my... ugh, my cheeks. I suppose that everyone has that one thing about themselves that they completely and utterly despise, which I guess my cheeks would be for me. They're big. Well, not just them, but I don't like my cheeks in particular. They forever make me look like a chipmunk, I kid you not, and no matter what my mom says, they most certainly do not look flattering.
Not that this whole thing is supposed to be a big pity party for me or anything. In truth, I actually don't mind my appearance. I guess it's mostly because it doesn't matter to me right now, but in general I am relatively content. Everybody has those moments when they feel so embarrassed about their weight that they would like to die, though I suppose that I just have those moments a bit more often (it comes with being the weight I am, I think).
I'm not made fun of, really, or at least no more than the average person. I always kind of try to stay under the radar, so that I can avoid situations that make me feel bad about myself. In general, that includes not having many friends. It tends to make not a lot of people notice me, though, so I guess I deal. I've accepted that I'm not popular material, and the background has been my domain since then.
My name is Sakura Haruno, and I'm 16 years old, sophmore in high school. I go to Konoha High, which is alright, I suppose. The teachers tend to be a little creepy, and everyone there has their own little group of friends. Except me, that is.
I don't seem to fit into any of the groups, or cliques, or whatever you want to call them. It kinda sucks, but like I said, I've long since accepted it.
"Sakura," a voice calls out to me and I blink my emerald green eyes, trying to focus on the person in front of me. I'm surprised, after all, it isn't everyday that someone goes out of there way to talk to me. Especially someone like this. Someone... someone like Sasuke Uchiha.
Everyone thinks he's some god, but I guess I'm here to assure you that he most definitely isn't. He has his flaws too. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate him or anything, I just know him. Or at least I used to. You see, we used to be friends back before it mattered if someone was skinny or fat or smart or dumb. Back before high school, really.
But we've all grown up.
He's not that bad of a guy, actually, just a little vain, and very quiet. Not many people know what he's like, and he isn't too quick to let someone break through his walls. That's why most people just assume that he's this mysterious, intellectual... like, model or something. I don't even know, all I know is that they're wrong. He's just as human as the rest of us.
Still, a little odd that he'd even try to talk to me here, at school, where everybody can see us.
"Mm?" I make a small noise, turning my attention back to the magazine in my hands. It's a copy of Vogue. I'm sure it goes against the images pasted across billboards and magazines, but my goal is to become a fashion designer when I'm older, stereotypes be damned.
Currently, I'm reading an article about this girl who breaks out of her bubble and takes her future with both hands. It's relatively interesting, inspiring, and kind of cute in a weird, journalistic way. However, I also find it to be a bit on the optimistic side. Things don't usually work out quite so easily.
When I glance back up at Sasuke again, he's just kind of standing there. Clutching a sheet in his hand like it personally wronged him, he is fervently looking side to side as though he's being hunted. I follow his gaze and see nothing there but a growing group of giggling girls, although that could be a reason all on it's own.
"Here." he finally shoves the paper he has been holding in his hands towards me, barely giving me enough time to grab a hold of it before turning and walking away in the opposite direction. Well that was sudden. Could of said, 'Hi.' or something.
He's lucky he's cute.
I blink again, left standing there like an idiot with a paper in my hands. It takes me a second to recover, and the people around me are starting to look at me funny. I can practically hear them muttering, 'I knew she was crazy'.
Of course, now they give me attention.
I shake my head, moving backwards a couple of steps so that I'm hidden in the shadows of the hallway. As soon as I'm sure nobody is staring at me anymore, I deem it safe to look down at the sheet Sasuke gave me. I'm almost a little scared to look, because why in the world would he risk his reputation to give me anything?
It's probably just some big joke.
A little voice in my head argues that he has never been that cruel, and I shake my head again, knowing the crazy voice to be right. Instead of dwelling on the insanity that is obviously beginning to set in, I decide to begin reading.
My heart's practically beating in my ear drums as I scan the first sentence.
UchiCO.F Intern Application – Paris, France
No. No.
Oh. My. God.
My eyes are beginning to widen, and honestly I'm not sure if they can get any bigger. Even my hands are shaking - a ridiculous habit that I spent most of middle school trying to get rid of. I almost drop the paper in excitement as my mind finally begins to sort through what I just read. This can't be right. I mean, it makes sense, because Sasuke is an Uchiha after all, but... this can't an actual application to The Uchiha Company of Fashion can it? CAN IT?
These applications are very hard to get your hands on, as they are a very exclusive bunch. The very thought of it gets my heart speeding up.
And speeding up. And up. And up. And I feel dizzy.
I reach out to clutch a wall in an attempt to steady myself, but miss entirely, landing on the cold floor with a clunk. I'm sure that it probably hurt, but before I even touched the ground I am out cold.
I fainted. I'm ashamed of myself.
-:-
I suppose I can't really pretend that I am anonymous now. Apparently passing out in the middle of the hallway doesn't go completely unnoticed. Or unnoticed at all, actually. Not surprising, really, considering how quickly information travels here. My school is full of people that gossip so much, sometimes I wonder if that's all they know. Again, I wouldn't be surprised.
But anyways, the point is that when I woke up a couple of hours ago, I was practically famous. Or at least, you know, as famous as someone can be for fainting in the middle of a hallway.
The only upside to all of this is that I get to go home early.
I never actually got to finish that article in Vogue from earlier, although with all these thoughts swirling around in my head, I'm not sure if I ever will.
As I slowly exit the school (my head is still a little bit fuzzy), I see students crowding together in groups, pointing in my direction and whispering things that I probably don't want to hear. Part of me wishes there was such a thing as a nice rumor. Like, 'Oh wow! Did you hear about that Sakura Haruno girl? She totally won the lottery."
Of course, every person I know is a massive bitch, so I'm going to doubt that this is the case.
It doesn't take very long for me to get home, and soon I am in my room, finally browsing a few articles and effectively blocking out all of the events of today. Hmm. I wonder how stripes would look on a romper?
"Sakura-chan!" my mom calls up to me from the bottom of the stairs, making me jump, "Have you decided yet?"
Oh yeah, I let out a loud groan.
I forgot about that.
The paper turned out to be legit, after all.
The Uchiha Company of Fashion is one of the biggest fashion distributers in all of the world, with a variety of popular up and coming designers currently work for them. One of my favorite designers at the moment, Uchiha Itachi, is acting as the head of the company's main base, which is located in Paris, France.
Itachi is Sasuke's older brother, and their mother, Uchiha Mikoto, is trying to branch out to different parts of the US and Canada (with a couple of stores already located in major cities), which is why Itachi is in charge at the moment. Uchiha Fugaku (their dad), is running as chief of Konoha's police department. He is who Sasuke is living with for the time being.
The actual internship that the paper spoke about is a new program the company is starting. I believe it was mostly Itachi's doing, although one can never be too sure. He has always been a prodigy when it comes to most things, and I also know he is a brilliant teacher (when I was a little girl, he was the one who first taught me to sew). It all seems to fit.
The program is supposed to run from July 1st until August 1st of the next year. This basically means that I will be there for approximately 13 months, and I will be back for my grade 12 year. I was attempting to figure out if I would rather the program be 2 years, although I suppose that I am just being whiny.
It's a brilliant opportunity really, and I'm sure that the only reason I by chance got an application was because Sasuke used to be my best friend, so I should be extremely grateful. As far as I know, this program is generally invitation only, although applications still have to go through final stages of review.
It should really be clear to me. I am 16 years old, practically an adult, with the chance to study under the most brilliant designers of my generation. Fashion is all about connections, and I know that this program would give me all of the connections I need.
However, I am only 16, and Paris is very far away. I have never been away from my parents for so long before, and I hardly know anybody there. Sure, I would have Itachi, but chances are I will hardly see him. It's entirely scary. Especially because I know that the wrong decision can totally impact my future, whether it be for the better or the worse.
I let out a deep sigh.
"I haven't really made up my mind yet, mum." I call down to her, but I say it quietly and I'm not really too sure if she heard it or not. I doubt it matters, because I figure she'll leave me alone for a while, even if I don't. She knows how bad I am at making decisions.
I sit still for a moment, contemplating my options, before forcing all thoughts entirely out of my head. If I think about it for another second, I might explode. I need something to take my mind off of it.
Hmm.
Hmm.
Hmm.
Oh! My hat!
The other week I was watching this movie, I can't really remember what it was called, but anyway, the girl in it was wearing this hat. I think it was supposed to be some kind of fedora, but it didn't take a genius to see that the fundamentals were all messed up. I literally couldn't stop thinking about it all night. It was like a tick in my brain. Almost like a little voice was whispering to me that I could do better.
You see, it used to be this really tacky coral colored material that could be okay, but looked relatively cheap, even from far away. The color was a shade of coral that was kind of off, making it look more orange than anything, especially in strong lights.
I've changed the top of the hat a bit, so that it is a bit more circular, but still with a light egg shape. I decided to keep the general idea of the hat (the color and the flowers), but improved upon them. The new fabric I chose was a bit more flimsy, but still sturdy, so that it wasn't quite so stiff. The color, as well, is more of a true coral. Instead of looking orange, it shines more of a pinky gold.
I've already done the basic sewing, but I'm adding in a lining right now (silk), as well as some decorative stitching on the rim in maroon. It's hard to see from far away, but if you really look at the hat, it just adds that extra flare. It makes someone feel much more special when they're wearing it.
After I'm done that, I have to sew a maroon bow around it, and put several small maroon and gold silk flowers in a bundle/line/bouquet on the right side of the hat's bow. I've already made most of the flowers. They vary in size, but they're all hibiscus inspired. I worked hard on them, and I'm so proud of how they turned out.
From far away, I would think they were real flowers.
An accomplishment for any... um... fake flower maker.
Just as I'm about to finish the stitching, a hearty chuckle breaks into my reverie and makes me poke my finger. I jump slightly and screech out in pain, bringing a bleeding finger up to my mouth. I glance up at my dad with my emerald green eyes, narrowing them at him with annoyance. "Dad." I seethe, "You know you're not supposed to interrupt me while I'm sewing."
He ignores me, still smiling. It's kind of creeping me out. "You are cut out for this, your internship I mean. It's made for people like you. You're the hardest worker I know, and... well, you should do this, hun. I know that you're unsure now, but this is a once in a life time opportunity, and if you pass it up now, than you'll be spending the rest of your life wondering, 'what if?'."
I'm staring at the ground playing with the rim of the hat by now, because I've never been too good at expressing my emotions through my words. Part of me wants to tell my dad to give me another week, but I know that is impossible. It is May now, and the information has to be faxed or emailed back to them by Thursday at the latest. That is only a couple of days from now.
Part of me blames Sasuke for not giving me the paper sooner, but I guess I don't really care too much. I think he knew I would over think this if I had the paper for too long.
"I know dad." I finally speak, "But... what if I fail?" I let out thought that's been on my mind for a while now. "I don't think I'm ready."
"You're more ready than you'll ever be, and as for failing..." he smiles warmly at me, and I feel my own smile making it's way to my lips, "it's better to have tried and failed than to never have tried at all. And you, my daughter, are the best try-er out there."
"That's not a word dad." I shake my head at him, the small smile still lingering on my lips. He softly pats me on the shoulder, leaving me to my thoughts, and I know that he is expecting an answer by later tonight.
Ugh. I need more time.
With that thought lingering in my mind, I place my hat and needles on the desk in front of me. I quickly run to the doorway of my bedroom, calling after him, "Dad!" I stop for a moment, waiting until I hear the expected, 'Mm?' before I continue, "I'll make my mind up tonight. I promise." I pause for a second, "I'll tell you at supper tomorrow."
I hear him laugh, and I can practically imagine the toothy grin on his face, "That's my girl!" he says, his faint Irish accent leaking through. He was originally born in Konoha, where I live now, but he immigrated to Ireland when he was 4. He lived there for 12 years, and moved back with his parents when he was 16. He met my mum when they were 18, and the rest is history.
Some people think I have a bit of an accent too, probably because I spend so much time around him, but it's really only when I say certain words. I don't mind though, accents are cool, not that I can tell the difference.
I clamber back to my bed, abandoning my hat for now, in preference of the warmth of my blankets. I need to spend tonight and tomorrow thinking, because as I said, if I choose the wrong thing...
Well, it could change my life forever.
-:-
I'm not too sure of what to expect this morning, but I have a feeling that whatever it is, it won't be too good. After all, my classmates don't exactly have the best history of being 'nice', or at least considerate of others feelings.
I've also found that they have a particular fondness for rumors. All in all, it is not a very good combination.
(Not that I blame them too much for basking in drama - everybody does - but they tend to take it to a whole new level. Most of the time, they do things that are more so meant to hurt, rather than amuse.
I've learned the hard way that everything they do is on purpose.
Sometimes, I wonder if they like seeing people suffer.)
I haven't really been in the centre of their attention for years now, since I was just a little girl and everyone said that my forehead was way too big for my body, which could be taken as an insult in the first place - I'm not exactly the smallest kid on the block. Anyway, after that little horror story, I learned the art of being invisible. It's remarkable how easy it is to stay off their radar.
Well, until now, that is.
As I walk through the doors of Konoha High, I'm actually not all that surprised when I hear an older kid mumble under his breath, "Why's she at school? Doesn't she know that her disease is contagious?"
Ugh. Apparently now I'm contagious and I have a disease. I mean, sure, the rumor could have been much worse than that (and part of me wonders if there is more to this than I think), but a disease? Now, if I want to fall off the radar again, I'm going to have to pretend to be sick for a while, until I go and get 'cured'. God knows they probably gave me cancer or something.
Part of me wants to walk up to him and ask what he meant by disease, but I know that that won't end well. Instead, I inconspicuously move a little closer to the gossip mongers, leaning against the wall only a few feet away from them. I pull out my cell phone, pretending to fiddle around with it as I try to catch their quiet words.
I can't help but hope to myself that the girl will reject the boy's 'disease' rumor, and when she rolls her eyes, I let out a small sigh of relief, until her high soprano voice reaches my ears.
"God, Akio, you can't catch Aids from just walking beside someone." she says factually, and I feel all my hopes being dashed. Of course they gave me Aids.
"Yeah, but didn't you hear? Natsumi said she," he pauses a moment for emphasis, "get's around a lot."
The girl beside him nods, her face showing a great deal of pity, "Poor Natsumi. She lost her boyfriend to that bitch, and to top it off, the slut gave him Aids. Now, even if she wants to get back with Sasuke, they can never be together, not really."
There's the rest of the rumor. See, I knew a disease wouldn't be enough for them. And what the heck? Sasuke, of all people? He's the last person I would want to date. Everyone knows that I haven't thought about him that way since middle school, and that was years ago.
He probably pissed Natsumi off, and now she's getting payback. She could kill two birds with one stone – embarrass me, and totally ruin Sasuke's day.
You see, Natsumi Nakamura is what one would describe to be a queen bee. It's not just that she has the looks, although she does, it's also the fact that she has this way of making someone feel really good when they're around her. Like, when you're by her side, you feel like you're the most important person in the world. That is, until you turn around to sharpen your pencil, and she starts talking about you.
I always try to tell myself that all of this is because of her home life (I've heard rumors - although one can never be so sure. I know firsthand how wrong rumors can be.), and that she's so insecure about herself that she has to make up stories about everyone else to make her feel like she's still on top.
Mind you, that doesn't make what she does any better, and that doesn't mean I don't hate her. It might not even be the fact that she makes up rumors that compels me to dislike her, it's something deeper, I guess.
It's partly the way she looks. She's so fake it sickens me, and normally I wouldn't mind, if she didn't take the things I'm so proud of and destroy them.
Let me back track.
Natsumi is what one would call a mimicker. She takes little things she likes from people, and she pulls them together to create these personas... different ones that make the real people feel like outdated copies.
Around the beginning of high school, she changed her hair color to this light pink, almost blonde color, and she wears these vibrant green contacts that make her eyes look unreal, but begrudgingly (for me, at least), in a good way.
It's like she decided that she liked my look, and just... stole it. And then she did it better.
It's kind of hard to remember what she looked like before she started looking like me. I think it was lot like a girl named Ai Tanaka that I went to middle school with, but I can't really remember. Before that? I'm not sure.
It's not just the look, either, that really gets me about her. It's also the way she speaks. She uses that valley girl speech thing, which can be really annoying when overused. And she uses it seriously. It's like watching a teen sitcom, everyday all day.
No exaggerations needed.
I'm not too sure why she chose my look, actually. Maybe because for that first week or two of high school I was getting all this attention, because my hair and eyes were 'so, SO cool!'. It might have has something to do with Sasuke, too, because I was one of the few girl's that he actually paid attention to.
Either way, by the third week of school, she had ditched the curly brown hair and large honey eyes that were Ai Tanaka, and brought in the exotic look of, well... of me.
And with it went whatever short career of slight popularity I had in high school. By now, everybody just has it in their heads that I am the one copying her.
"Oh my god, I know right? Like, how could she even do that to her? They could totally be sisters, like with their hair and stuff. But Natsumi-chan is, like, so much prettier, so it's probably because Sakana or whatever is jealous. Like, oh my gosh, get your own boyfriend." another girl joins the group, and I recognize her as Emi Fujiwara, Natsumi's best friend. She and Natsumi are like twins, with their similar noses and eyes, although personally, I find Emi to be a lot more attractive (and don't take that the wrong way!)
After all, I'm not gonna deny that Emi is model material. She's exotic, too, but in a fiery, natural way. Her hair is long and red (but it isn't an orange-y red, it's more of a crimson red) that falls in ringlets down her back. Her eyes are a warm brown, that used to smile. Mind you, this was more so when she used to be nice, back when we were younger.
Now there isn't much left but deceit.
Nowadays she is more of a stereotypical stuck up cheerleader.
However, I don't want to listen to them talk, so I turn away and stomp to my locker. I don't really care much about attention at the moment, because I'm sure everyone in the school already knows I'm here. There's a bit of a small crowd forming around the walls of the hallway, and although everyone's pretending to be 'hanging out', they're all watching me.
I'm not really too sure what they're waiting for, so I just grab my books out of my locker. As I am swinging the door shut and closing my lock, the bell rings. I turn slightly, about to walk right, before I notice just how crowded the hallway has become, and believe me when I say all eyes are on me. It's suddenly become so quiet that if a pin dropped everyone would think a gun had fired off.
Nobody moves, even when the announcements start coming on, and a little voice in the back of my head reminds me that I have a class to go to. I roll my eyes inwardly at the crowd, and just as I'm about to leave, a high pitched voice breaks through the wall of silence we all managed to build up.
"You bitch!" Natsumi is suddenly in front of me, her pink hair swinging around her waist as she glares her (mine, I inwardly quip) green eyes at me. "I can't believe you wanted to try and steal Sasuke-kun."
I feel my breath catch in my throat, and I realize that there isn't going to be an easy way out of this situation.
"I'm sorry," I'm trying to placate her, "but I don't know what you're talking about." I say quietly, trying to look everywhere but at her. I don't do well under this kind of pressure, all of these eyes on me, and I feel a bit like throwing up. I have to try and stay calm.
"Yes, you totally do, you slut." she spits at me, and when I continue to avoid her gaze, she yanks my hair harshly. "Look at me!" she hollers loudly, and I can hear a soft murmur begin to break out among the crowd. I can't help but notice that most of the small whispers are supporting her ('I hope she shows that bitch.' 'Man stealer... she deserves it.' 'Hah, did you see that? Natsumi is so funny.').
"I don't like Sasuke." I say, trying to straighten up a bit, as I turn and glare at her back. I can tell she's a bit surprised, but a second later the emotion is gone, replaced by a mysterious glint that I can't really identify, but is intimidating all the same. In the last second before all hell breaks loose, I realize what a mistake I've made.
"It doesn't matter if you like him or not," her smile is very fake. "Do you want to why? Because he is mine. And do you want to know why he's mine? Because I'm not ugly, dear Sakura, and I'm not fat." she smirks as I wince slightly. "But you are, and your little cheeks help to prove it." she reaches out, and pinches my cheeks mockingly, "You're a pathetic excuse for a girl, you know that?
"I mean, all of us have been betting on how long it will take for you to just break down and admit you're never gonna get a guy. At least not until you get some plastic surgery, or loose some weight, but we all know that's never gonna happen.
"And even if it does, your huge forehead will just scare everybody off. Not to mention your stench." she wrinkles her nose, letting out a soft laugh, "Give up. You're never going to be pretty, because you were born to be ugly."
And with that, she turns on her heel, sashaying out of the hallway like she owns the place. The only thing I can hear is the loud clicking of her stilettos, until even that fades from my hearing, and the soft murmur begins again, growing louder with each waking moment until there are people shouting at me.
"Just get out of here, ugly!" someone shouts, and I turn, my eyes already wet from Natsumi's little speech. I try to tell myself that they're just being mean, that they're lying, but the tears don't go away.
"That's right, go cry!" which is followed by a course of 'crybaby!' from the people around me. I try to hide my head behind the books in my arms, holding them up like a shield, but that doesn't stop the insults from coming at me.
"Yeah, just go home!"
For some reason, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea.
-:-
"So, you've made up your mind?" my mom asks excitedly, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing up and down as she seems to vibrate with happiness. I've always wondered where she gets all her energy, and how I didn't get any of it, but I don't dwell on it, "So... what will it be?"
"I'm-"
My dad interrupts me, "You know we don't care if you don't go, right?"
"I kno-"
"We love you just the way you are."
"Yes, dad, I'm awar-"
"But we just want to encourage you to follow your dreams, and even if you decide not to-"
"GOD, dad, I'm going, okay?" and instantly I'm paraded by a series of hugs and kisses, and I'm suddenly very aware of how much I'm going to miss them. I feel my eyes become wet for the second time this day, and I mumble into my dad's black hair, "I love you guys so much."
"We know..." my mom smiles at reassuringly, "we love you too, hon. We'll always love you."
Mothers always know exactly what to say.
1 1/2 Months Later
It's been a long month. I have barely been getting through my classes, but the thought of Paris has literally kept me sane through all of this drama.
My parents have been encouraging me to go down a week before classes begin, so that I have time to settle down and meet other early students. Although this only slightly calms my nerves, I have to agree that it is a good idea. Still, I keep getting the sensation that I am being punched in the gut. I hate nerves.
I'm packing my bag slowly, trying to prolong the final moments in my bedroom for as long as I can. I'm actually not going to Paris for another week, but my parents need me to help them clean up, and I know how much it will mean to my mom if I help.
She's changing my room into her own personal office, and I'm actually not that mad. I'm pretty happy for her, because I know how much she has been wanting a personal work space. You see, my mom's an artist, and up until now she's just been painting in the living room. It's really inconvenient for everyone, because she always gets paint on our stuff, and there is never any room for normal things, just a bunch of paint.
So anyway, I'm happy for her, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to be sad to see my room go. I'm not too sure what will happen when I get back in a year, but I guess that we will figure it out when the time comes.
This is my last night in it for a while, anyway, and it's actually starting to scare me how excited I am getting. I'm beginning to get this profound feeling that this isn't really my home any longer. I know that sounds so odd, but my future is right at my finger tips, and for once in my life, I feel ready to grab it.
It's like this sudden realization is hitting me all at once these last couple of days: I don't belong here. I don't know if I ever did. I've always said that I didn't fit in with everybody else, but I've never really recognized how alone I've felt.
However, everything will make me stronger, and I'm starting to realize that there are more things I am becoming sure of as time goes on.
1.) It's really offensive when someone confirms something you've always thought about yourself.
2.) Maybe I shouldn't be as okay with my appearance as I am (I mean, I'm overweight, which even I know is unhealthy).
And finally, 3.) I hate it when people tell me what I can and can't do.
Because I may have never been meant to be beautiful, but rules are meant to be broken, and I was never really one for giving up.
End Chapter 1