Behind The Mask

Come on Rebecca, take a deep breath. It’s nothing, just open and enter. They’ll be nice, you know that. No one will think you are a freak because you aren’t. Just take it slow, remember to smile, and everything will work out smoothly.
It’s now or never. Having friends is fine, but why are you here? To learn. If you don’t learn you’ll be kicked out.

Rebecca Clarkson is a shy and lonely girl who only wants to fit in with her classmates. But she's different from the others. She's chubby and ugly, and no one wants to talk to her. Or is that really how it is?

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3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2


Thou shall count calories and restrict intake accordingly

 

The following morning I woke up at 5 AM. I could not sleep anymore. I pushed away my duvet and stood up from the bed. I went to the window, looked out to see the sunrise. It was still a little too early for it to be visible from my bedroom window, but I could see the beautiful peach-coloured sky. I went to the desk, powered on my computer and logged into Facebook. Not that I expected anything interesting to have happened overnight.

I had one message.

 

Hi!

I just want to say sorry for bullying you with your drawing, it was inappropriate.

 

Marie

 

I sat there staring at the few words she had written to me. Not that I believed them at all. She had humiliated me, and I felt like burying my face in the pillow, but no. I did not. If I did they would have won the fight.

I looked into the mirror, stared at the girl in the reflection. She was fat; had a bloated stomach, fat thighs and chubby cheeks. It was me.

I lay down on the floor and did crunches. At first my goal was 100, but it didn’t feel like enough. So I raised the amount to 200, then 300 and at last 400. My abs hurt, but it felt good. Very good.

The clock became 6 AM, and I decided to go for breakfast. As I entered the kitchen my dad was sitting there with his laptop and a cup of strong coffee. He turned his face and looked at me.

“Good morning sweetheart,” he said. “Have you slept well?”

I nodded and gave him a hug.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Just working… I had a lot to take care of, so I have been up since 3 AM…” He said as he yawned.

I went to the kitchen table and looked for some fruit. I found a peach and some apple and pear. I cut it to pieces and put it into a bowl and poured some low-fat, vanilla yoghurt on top of it.

My dad looked at the bowl.

“Where did your lust for white bread go?” he asked, with a tiny hint of worry in his voice.

“I just decided to go for a healthy lifestyle… Is that ok?” I asked him.

“As long as you eat candy with Megan and me on Fridays!” he laughed.

“I promise dad.” I lied. Candy is the reason that I am fat today. Megan came downstairs. She was rubbing her eyes.

“Good morning you two!” she said whilst yawning. She sat next to me at the table, waiting for dad to go make her toast as he usually does; but not this morning.

“Meg, go make your own toast, I am very tired, and I have a lot of work to do.”

She rose from the table and found the strawberry jam and Nutella and put it on the table. Then she took the bag with bread and put two pieces into the toaster.

I took a sip of my cold water. Megan screamed because she burnt her fingers on the toaster. Because I looked at her whilst putting the glass of water down, I lost focus and I sat it on the edge of the bowl, causing it to flip over and fall to the table, pouring its contents on the table.

“Rebecca!” my dad yelled, furious that I had lost focus, causing the water to flow into his computer. He rose from the table fast and lifted the computer. But it was too late. The water had gone into it and it broke.

“You have to be careful! I just lost all my work!” he yelled, his face all red. I could hear Megan cry because of the burn, and the toast started smelling burned.

“It was not my fault! Megan burnt her finger, maybe you should take care of that instead of your silly computer, and your firm has insurance on it!” I yelled back at him.

“Young lady, go back to your room immediately!” he yelled at me. As I rose from the table my leg was stuck in the chair and I realized when I started walking and the chair flipped over. My dad thought I did it on purpose.

“You better be careful with that chair! Else you can get to pay for that as well!”

I went for the stair, ignored what he had said.

“You better answer me, else you’re grounded!”

I turned around and stared at him furiously, and with a tear on my cheek I gave him the finger.

He started yelling at me to come back downstairs, but instead I went for the bathroom and locked the door. And there I sat, on the cold floor with tears flowing down my cheeks.

I opened the medicine cabinet, looked for the shaver. I could not find it anywhere. I started shoving the medicine aside. I had to find it. My dad was knocking on the door.

“Rebecca! Please come out…” he said, with a calm voice.

“No!” I yelled at him.

I found it. The shaver was hidden behind my vitamins. I took it out and took the capsule off: the one protecting the blade, and for people to avoid getting cut. But it does not matter. Getting cut is not the biggest problem I have got. I was still wearing my pyjamas’ shorts. I sat down on the toilet, staring at the blades. They were sharp and shining in the weak light from the lamp.

I turned on the water in the shower and sat down in it. Regardless, I was still wearing my clothes. The water was ice cold, just as I wanted it to be. The water was running down my face, making my body and pyjamas wet. It was a comfortable feeling, relieving. I took the blade, took a deep breath and slit my ankle. It was a stinging feeling. The red blood and the pain I felt in my heart disappeared into the drain, mixed with the water.

“Rebecca, are you alright?” my dad asked from the other side of the door.

“Go away!” I yelled. I slit my ankle again, a little higher up the leg this time.

I stared at the red blood flowing with the water. I leaned my head back, against the wall, and cried. As with the blood, I let my emotions flow down the drain.

 

As I left the bathroom I headed directly for my bedroom and took a pair of long jeans which would cover up the cuts. I grabbed my sweater and pulled it over my head. Took a pair of socks and my black vans and I was off to school.

When I arrived to the school I found the class and sat down. The others were staring at me. It was early in fall, and it was hot. The others were wearing shorts or skirts, and I was wearing a sweater and long jeans.

When the teacher arrived, my day was even more ruined. We were supposed to work in groups, and I did not want to work with any of the others, and vice versa. Our teacher, Mrs. Thomasson was a little and thin woman. She had short, grey hair and she always wore Converse shoes. She came over to my table, which wasn’t really necessary as I sat right in front of her desk.

“Rebecca, why do you not work with the others?” Mrs. Thomasson asked me in a low and concerned voice.

“I do not want to. They do not like me, and I do not like them.” I answered honestly.

She sighed and went back to her table. I felt a big relief. I was not forced to work with the others and they were not forced to work with me either.

 

“Rebecca, why do you wear so many clothes? Is it to hide your fat body?” Marie asked. She was standing there, tall, next to my table, along with her friends.

“Leave me alone.” I said.

“Rather not, we want to hear your answer first!” they said and laughed.

I stood up from my chair and took my stuff, trying to leave the class.

“Oh, not so fat… I mean fast…” Marie giggled “… We need to hear your answer; else we will have to take off your clothes.”

I tried to push through them, but without luck. They grabbed my arms and legs, and lifted me up. They put me on the table.

“Now, please tell me, why are you wearing that much clothes?”

“Please, let me go!” I cried.

“No.”

She stood up on the table, looking down at me. She then sat down on my hips. It hurt. She turned her face away from me.

“You two grab her arms, and you two grab her legs.” She said.

She turned her face towards me again, smiling.

“Now, do you want it the easy way or the hard way?” she asked.

I could not believe this happened to me.

“Well, that must be the hard way!” she sounded excited.

She pulled my shirt up over my face, my bra was visible. I started crying and kicking my legs. It did not help.

“Oh, it seems like it is the fat she is trying to cover… But what is it with her legs then?”

She turned around, and pulled up my trouser leg and I started kicking. I did not want her to see that I had cut myself, but it did not help kicking at all. The girls holding my legs were stronger than me.

“Oh, look at this, girls! I think Rebecca likes to feel pain!” she laughed, “Come on then I think we should bring her with us then!”

The girls lifted me from the table, and were standing in a circle around me as we entered the hallway. We were heading towards the girls’ locker in the gym.

“Sit.” Marie said in a monotone, commanding voice.

I sat down. I considered whether I should beg for mercy or start fighting. But before I got myself a solution, the girls started taking off my clothes, and in the end, I was only wearing my panties and bra.

“You should go stay guard by the doors, while I take care of Rebecca here.” The girls left and left me all alone with Marie.

 

“Now, Rebecca. Let me tell you that you are absolutely beautiful - If you were to be compared to a sea slug.” Marie said.

She was tying my hands to the bench, and so with my feet. She sat on top of me with a ruler and some tape.

“You see, I cannot have you lying here, screaming, so I have to put a piece of tape for your mouth. It is for your own sake.” She said while she was taping my lips together.

I had never felt as humiliated as I did then, lying there, and only wearing my underwear.

“You see, I really feel sorry for you that you are so fat and ugly, and I feel like punishing you. So I figured out with the others, how we did that the best, and we came to this solution: I will be hitting you with the ruler first, just to get yourself warmed up a little, and then I will start hitting you for real. How does that sound? Good? I knew you would feel happy about it!”

She started climbing off me, and I was fiddling with my hands, trying to get them free.

“I would not do that if I was you.”

She started slapping my thighs with the ruler. It hurt a little, but as she kept hitting it started stinging, and in the end, it felt like she was poking a knife through my legs. I started crying. It was so humiliating.

It kept going for what felt like hours, until she finally came to a break. She left the big room for a little period of time. She came back a few minutes later. She had wet hair, and had probably been by the sink to get some cold water in her face. I managed to look down my body and saw the red marks on both my thighs. It hurt a lot, and some places there were even tiny breaks in the skin. She stood up in front of me, towering above me.

“You see, I think you are ready for some more hitting now. I see you cry happy tears! It is my pleasure to fulfil your dreams!”

The girl was insane. She aimed for my stomach, and to protect my organs from getting more damage than necessary, I started tightening my abs, but it did not do much against the pain. She hit me, hard. It felt like she was trying to get inside my stomach to rip out my insides. She hit me all over the body, even my face. I heard a breaking noise when she hit my ribs, and I tried screaming, which probably did sound like a moan instead. She stopped and removed her hair from the face.

“You see, I am very sorry but I have to leave you here. I have some training which I have to do, and unfortunately I do not have time enough for untying you, so you will have to lay here until someone finds you.”

 

And then she left. 

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