The Monster

She sits on my bed, leaning back and smiling imperiously. She exudes the confidence I only wish I could possess. I try not to look at her too much, knowing she is looking to pick a fight.

I turn to my closet and grab a sweater. It's a soft blue cashmere that my mother got me for Christmas. I fully intend to wear it to school. That is, until I hear what she has to say.

"You're not wearing that are you?" Her voice is full of derision.

"I was going to, yes. I thought it was pretty," I sulk. She's no older than me yet she has this way of making me feel like a small child.

"It's pretty yes. But that's the one that makes you look dumpy. Plus the color drains you out, makes you look sick."

I attempt to look defiant for a moment. In the end I concede, like I always do, put the sweater back and pull on an old tee. I don't know what insanity possessed me and made me think I might look good today.

We head downstairs for breakfast before school. I grab some Poptarts and a cup of coffee. I see her smirk at me over her grapefruit half.

"You're going to eat that?" I nod feebly. "Do you know how many calories that has? And we both know you don't need them." I look down at my stomach. I'll admit I'm unhappy with my weight but I didn't think I was that big. With a sigh, I dump my coffee and set down the uneaten Poptart I'd been holding. She gives me a look of dark satisfaction and slides the other half of her grapefruit towards me. I nibble it self consciously.

We get to school and one of my friends walks up to us.

"How was your weekend?" My friend asks.

"Oh, it was alright," I reply halfheartedly. I can only hope that she doesn't comment.

"Oh it was your typical weekend. She sat on the couch and moped about how miserable her life was; she whined about having no friends. All the while she did nothing about it." I look down in shame. My friend mutters something about the library and runs off. This always happens when she's near.

Dejectedly I make my way to first period. She follows like a shadow, nitpicking at me. She comments on my personality, on my appearance, on my very thoughts.

All through math she whispers in my ear, filling me with doubt. The teacher calls on me and I blurt out "3!" but when I look at the board I see the answer is- very clearly I might add- 25.

"You're really stupid," she hisses cruelly. I laugh with my peers as the teacher tells me I ought to pay more attention.

I leave class when the bell rings, feeling lower than ever. My crush walks up and asks me if I'll hang out with him after school. I smile but when I try to answer all that comes out is an awkward squeak. I run off before he can say anything.

"You blew that didn't you?" She chortles at my sorrow. "You are such a loser."

"Enough!" I scream. I've had too much and I can't take it anymore.

I whirl around but she's nowhere to be found. I've been yelling at thin air.

And that's when I realize: the only person that's been putting me down is... me. I'm the monster.