Diary Fiction 1

A series of fictional diary entries:

Again, I find myself sitting in front of the mirror, gazing at that reflection. A finger trails down my cheek, watching the skin dip and then re-mold itself. My father's words, ones that I have heard countless times before, sting like salt rubbed into an open wound.

"You're getting fat."

Those three words. They have such an impact, both on the mind and the body. Sharp teeth bite down at the sound, eyes shutting, trying to blind my mind to the shape of those harsh words. At twenty two, I should already be in line to be married to a man worthy in my parents' eyes. Fingers paw at my blond hair, blue eyes swimming in tears. Damn him. Even now, those words cause me to break down, even though it is like listening to a broken record. I know the reasons to why he says it. I always have.

He will never know, never ever, that over those three simple words, I have contemplated death and what it would be like to kiss it.

Pity.