Reviewed/Revised
In front of the hospital stood Aradia, her deep mahogany eyes staring up at the clouds as the white fluffy masses lazily drifted across the sky. She casually rocked back and forth on her feet, mindlessly worrying her beautiful red lips between her teeth.
She was a gorgeous girl. Her cocoa skin seemed to glow under the sun. Her wild black hair only added to her beauty. She was one of the most modest in the group though; struggling with body image throughout high school and life.
To her, her voluptuous curves and overall thickness disgusted her. She always felt overweight and often wore black and grey to cover up her own shame.
For years she hid. Hid behind a curtain of her own dark hair, only every once in a while peering out from behind it. Only to quickly pull the curtain in front of her face once more.
Another thing to add to her frustration was that for most of her life she struggled with speaking clearly. She had a thick Jamaican accent that made it almost impossible for some to understand her in her earlier years of her life. In fact she was made fun of for it in school and out.
Her older sister tried to get it out of tried telling her to ignore what other people said. She tried to teach Aradia the Megido sass. It was very unsuccessful. Even Aradia's parents tried to help her, they tried to teach her the pride of both races she had in her. They tried to teach her the honor of the Japanese, and the happiness and durability of Jamaica.
She took to both as oil takes to water.
Recently though she seemed to be gaining a little of each. She spoke more outwardly, she held herself better and she even started wearing color.
It all started the day she went to see her new therapist, Dr. Scratch. She came home from the appointment and immediately dyed a few red streaks in her hair. She even smiled at herself in the mirror.
She knew she could overcome what held her down for years, so when she stood naked in front of her door length mirror. Looking over herself, at her stretch marks, at her scars, and at her larger exterior in general. She knew she would feel a little tug at her heart that reminded her she hated everything about herself. But the longer she stood there, staring at her moles, freckles, birthmarks and each and every mark on her body, she smiled wider and wider.
Her large, not as perky breasts sat above her large belly, above a diamond stud in her belly button. She only smiled wider, her dimples staring back at her from the mirror.
Her smile would shiver once in awhile as tears ran down her rosy chocolate cheeks. She loved herself. She was unique. Every mole, every scratch, every spot, dimple, stretch mark, hair, and birthmark, made her special. Made her unique.
Every word pounded through her mind, every word that everyone had said. "Fat, ugly, weird, gross…." All of it. Pounded in her ears, but she still stood there, in front of her mirror with a smile.
So now she stood in front of the hospital, a red pair of short shorts sat on her gorgeous thick legs and hips. A white t-shirt with a ram on it sat over her chest and belly. As carefree as she was that day, worry still sat heavy in her heart as she waited for Gamzee and Tavros.