17 years old
Silver River,South Mississippi, USA
Thirteen years ago
Joyful tears filled my eyes. Over the past eight months, I recovered from the state of self-pity I had fallen into more than five years ago. Now, looking at myself in the mirror, weighing the same 177 pounds at 5'3", with the same curves, the word ‘fat’ was no longer an insult to me. Yes, I was still fat, and that was not a flaw.
Since Lester Fury's arrival in town, I was no longerPiggyParker. Not only did he not allow anyone to make fun of me, he also didn't let me stay at home, buried in my depression, nor did he let me wear clothes that hid my figure. One thing I learned from the person who had become my best friend in those last fewmonths was that any piece of clothing was suitable for a fat girl, whenever she wanted it to be.
I smiled at the mirror in front of me. The white jeans hugged my legs perfectly, revealing my generous curves, and the orange peplum top with cap sleeves showed off my hourglass figure. On the skin exposed by the V-neckline of the top, a yellowish-green crystal—peridot, my birthstone—hung from a silver chain. Just one thing was missing to complete the look: the black Vans that Lester had given me for Christmas.
I sat at the foot of the bed and put them on. I had no money to waste. My mother gave me little, and the little she gave, she expected it to be well spent. One look at my room was enough to understand what was required of me.
In that space, there was a white single bed, long since become too small and uncomfortable for my body. A single dresser, the same color, to store my clothes. A matching full-length mirror and a tiny desk with a yellow plastic chair. There weren't any decorations in the room, and even the duvet cover was plain, gray, and colorless. Mom expected me to keep everything that way. She wanted the furniture to last, the room to last, the ten-year-old backpack to last, and the clothes and shoes to fit for as long as possible.
I sighed and my shoulders drooped a little. Lester had given me the Vans that I was now nervously bouncing on my feet, and Aunt Lizzie, my dad's younger sister, bought me the clothes after meeting Lester and hearing him talk about my fashion boards on Pinterest. Even so, I couldn't celebrate and had to wear everything discreetly because my mom didn't approve at all.
I grabbed my bag and left the house with an apple in hand, thanking God that no one else was awake yet. It was just after six in the morning and the air was cool, even though September had only just begun. I looked up at the brightening sky, a sign of the imminent sunrise, and smiled. I convinced myself at the age of twelve that Papa had seen something like that before he died.
My father had been in the military. He served in the army for several years, which weighed heavily on his relationship with my mother, so much so that they ended up divorcing before my fifth birthday. My memories of that time were hazy, but I knew thatMamahad cheated on Papa with Officer Daniel, one of the city's cops. I remembered how he would show up as soon as my father left for a new mission and spent hours with her, locked in her bedroom, while I played with dolls downstairs.
I think that was the first time my heart was ever broken.
I also remember the day my father returned and was greeted with divorce papers, the way he cried while hugging me. By then, my mother was already pregnant with Officer Daniel's child, and before the divorce was finalized, my little sister Savannah was born.
Everything changed after that.
Papa became a lonely man. Every time he came back from his missions, he didn't want to see anyone except me or Aunt Lizzie. But despite everything, when Mom left home to build a new life with Officer Daniel, he tried hard to make me feel special. Every year, we painted my little room a different color. We always chose a pretty pastel shade and stamped glittery shapes on it. Every Christmas, Dad got me a cuddly stuffed animal. In ourlast year together, my room was every girl's dream. Pastel pink, with silver glitter butterflies along the walls, a spacious shell-shaped bed with tulle curtains, and stuffed animals as far as the eye could see. Whenever I spent time with Papa, I could be someone's little girl again, unlike with Ma.
Although Officer Daniel always treated me well and often tried to encourage my mother to buy me things similar to Savannah's, the result was always the same. My mother firmly repeating that I was the older sister, no longer a child, and had to protect Savannah. So, no nice things for me. All my toys went to Savannah, and I was expected to save my belongings so the budget would be enough to give my younger half-sister a comfortable life. Still, it didn't bother me. It was okay because I had my dad. I had a home to return to.
Until I didn't...
I stood in the middle of a street lined with simple houses and gardens. The sun slowly rose in front of me, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. I could still hear the doorbell ringing, the soldier with the American flag in his hands, a hat, and a box of medals. I still remember his tearful face, which I joined with cries and howls of pain, when he told me that my dad had been shot in an ambush and pronounced dead at 7:10 a.m. several weeks earlier.
I lost my world that day, despite Aunt Lizzie's efforts.
Mom didn't want to be at the funeral. It was Officer Daniel who accompanied me, and I'll always be grateful to him for that. I didn't recognize my father in the coffin. His head had been reconstructed, although no one ever told me that, I could tell.There was a strange bulge on his face, and I realized it must have been where the bullet hit him. However, one thing gave me comfort. A peaceful smile, a gesture that even the mortician was unable to wipe from his face. Seeing him in that coffin, dead at the young age of thirty-one, sent me into shock. I remember crying, screaming, and losing control. Eventually, I stopped breathing, until Aunt Lizzie took me aside.
“Daisy...” she said with her hands on my shoulders and a tender smile despite how much she was hurting. At the time, my aunt had recently turned twenty-eight. “My brother Paul wouldn't forgive himself if he made you suffer. You don't want your Papa's soul to be tormented, do you,honeybee?” I shook my head and said no. I remember imagining my daddy trapped in another dimension, desperately trying to reach me. I couldn't bear to do that to him. “Then, for him, you'll be strong. Promise?” I swore I would.
Until that day, I remained strong. I was strong when my mother used my inheritance to open her flower shop. I was strong when she spent what was left to pay for Savannah's braces. I was strong when everyone made fun of me and there was nobody there to defend me. I remained strong when I overheard my mother on the phone, describing me to a friend as an obese, mean, selfish, and jealous child. I would always be strong for Papa, and I tried to imagine him in his last moments, feeling the same thing I was feeling at that moment: an unparalleled peace as dawn broke.
I arrived at school early and walked down the half-empty hallways towards the cafeteria. Lester was sitting at his usualtable in the corner. That day he was wearing a Nirvana T-shirt and looking at me with a beaming smile.
“Gorgeous!” he exclaimed, jumping out of his chair to run towards me with open arms.
With a strength that never ceased to amaze me, he lifted me into the air, spinning me around, and I laughed joyfully.I wish you could meet him, Dad...“I have the prettiest best friend in town!”
When he put me down, I laughed awkwardly, clearing my throat to regain my composure.Best friend. I wanted so badly for us to be more than good friends, but the ominous shadow inside me kept reminding that a guy as attractive as him, no matter how kind, would never be interested in a fat chick like me. Then again, I also wasn't willing to pay the price of confessing my feelings.
Lester was the only true friend I had, and when we find such a friend, we must hold on to them with all our strength and pray to God that humanity will not be cruel enough to take them away from us.
“And I have the cutest best friend!” I forced a laugh, giving him a gentle punch on the arm. He pinched my cheek in response, making me melt. “Well, uh, so... Look approved?” I asked him.
“You bet. Aunt Lizzie is great!“
I lifted my nose up, proudly. “Did you doubt it? The woman is beautiful!”
