I know but...

Guilty.

That's how I feel. Last night I had pizza with George, Josh and my mum, and I was fine. But then guilt feelings came along and that's the worst part of it. One moment before, I was laughing and joking with them, but the next one I was depressed and sad and mostly guilty.

This morning I woke up with a fixed thought: don't eat lunch. Guilt plagued me all night, so instead of sleeping I made a plan not to eat. Luckily, today I'm having lunch at school and my mother won't be watching me.

I know what you are thinking now. "Are you crazy? You have to eat. Skipping meals solves nothing and is useless. You will hurt yourself. Sooner or later you will faint."

My problem is that I know I'm hurting myself, I know that eating is important, I know that skipping meals is not good but that doesn't stop me and I keep thinking that way.

I get up and go to the bathroom. I wash my face and teeth and I get dressed. I go to the kitchen where I open the fridge and I drink some water. My brother George says good morning and then he eats some cereal while I'm still tormenting myself over last night's pizza that I've probably already digested.

George goes to a vocational technical institute and I must say he is doing quite well. He is very extroverted, sociable and he has a lot of confidence with people. He's basically the opposite of me. He has a lot, and I mean a lot, of self-esteem, he's not vain or anything, he just accepts himself and he isn't afraid to admit it, unlike me. I would change me from head to toe if I could. He has brown hair like me and dark eyes like me, he's taller than me even though he was a dwarf until two months ago. Josh, on the other hand, has green eyes and he gets them from my father. He is a mix between me and George in character: he is shy but at the same time sociable and he is sure of himself when he wants to be. I can't be sure of myself even if I want to be.

Mum is still in bed, today she does the afternoon shift. She works at the hospital and she is a nurse, but unlike my father she does her best for us. I'm not saying that my father doesn't do anything for us, but he's not always there and the only thing he does is support us financially. I know it's not bad, but a little affection and presence would be nice. Instead, all he does is eat, sleep and work. In the evening he comes home and always wants to have dinner ready and he complains when there is not something he likes. Sometimes he raises his voice about my mother and I am afraid that he will do something to her or hurt her when we are not there. He complains when my mother talks too much for his taste, when she wants to go out but he prefers to stay in bed or sleep or go out with his friends. My mum used to take us everywhere when we were little even if she was tired, but he didn't, he barely gets up to take the remote control which is on the other side of the room and in fact sometimes, most of the time, he calls one of us to look for it because it is struggling for him. Even if he hadn't eaten, he would wait for one of us to come home and he didn't care if it was half past three or four o'clock. I am not saying that I don't love him, but that he could be more present in our lives instead of being on the phone all day when he isn't working.

Getting back to us, I head towards the spot where Dylan, Alison and I usually meet to go to school together and when I arrive I see them hugging each other. We give each other a hug and we walk together.

A part of me has always envied their relationship, but not because I'm jealous of them, but because of what they have. I've never had a boyfriend to spend the afternoon with, I've never kissed anyone and I've never felt in love with anyone, except for actors or singers but none of them know I exist. A part of me would like a guy to do all those romantic things with, walks by the sea, candlelight dinners and all those things here, but the other part of me is afraid of being teased, of not really being accepted for who I am and above all of not being enough for that person. I'd like to have new experiences but at the same time I don't want to do them for fear of making mistakes and that's something that has always blocked me from throwing myself in and letting go of others.

"Today the English teacher wants to interrogate" Alison complains and snorts "Did you even study?" I ask looking at her

"Yeah, I did some but you know I'm terrible at it. Plus she hates me."

"Again with that? She doesn't hate you, it's just your impression" says Dylan.

"I'm telling you, in fact I assure you. She's hated me since she saw me with Dylan. She thought I was cheating on her son when, in reality, I wasn't even together with him."

"Are you talking about Michael?"

Michael is her teacher's son who had a crush on her for years but she didn't reciprocate. One time she helped him with an assignment and he misunderstood everything. Considering he is the son who tells his mother everything and always exaggerates everything, he told her they were dating even though they were not. At first the mother treated her well because of this misunderstanding on the part of the son, but when one day she saw Dylan and Alison kissing she turned into Satan. But he doesn't hate her, because hate is a big word.

As we continue talking we arrive at the school and make our way to our lockers which are thankfully close by.

"When you will find my body in his car you will regret not listening to me."

"How tragic you make it" Dylan teases her.

"I'm the tragic one? I want to see how tragic you'll be when I'm not around to touc..." She doesn't finish the sentence because we come from the sound of the bell and after saying goodbye we go to our respective classes.