FIFTY SHADES OF FAT

FIFTY SHADES OF FAT

Chapter 1

I only had one w
ish in my life.
I did a lot of
inconceivable
acts to accomplish my wish. No one would ever do
the things that I've done. No one was
that desperate...

I hated
the way I looked
in
mirrors
and in pictures
.
I wondered if I was the only girl in the world that wasn’t photogenic. Mirrors
were so evil
in my opinion
. Every time I looked in the mirror, all I saw was fat. Cellulite loved my legs
and they became
best friends. Fat-Emma
was
what some people called
me.
I tried every diet out there to try to lose at least five pounds. I hated skinny bitches!
One thing I absolutely hated the most was
the fact that I wanted to be just like them.
Most women were in denial about something that I always fought mentally and physically
all my life
. I thought they should’ve been
honest with themselves.
Every person in the world wanted one thing. W
e all want to be skinny
, especially women
. 
I really hated people.
If you were a skinny girl, I hated you with a passion.

I tried many
gym
s
and I was
always
the ugly, fat girl that people made fun of
.
I was the fat girl that
nobody wanted to be around.
I just wasn’t eye candy.
There must have been a million girls just like me, all trying to do the same things day in and day out.
There was not one person that didn’t want to lose fat.
It was just never ever going to happen for me. I had no will power. I had to eat my tubs of ice cream
, junk food, watch my soaps, reality shows, and loved every second of it
. No pain, no gain!

I wanted to lose fi
fty-pounds! That was impossible for me.
I wasn't going to ea
t a carrots and celery sticks
like those super skinny skeleton models.
I would rather die
hundreds of times over
. It would hav
e been perfect to lose all my
fat and be skinny. I would have been modeling, the men would have raped me with their eyes, and I wouldn't have been so depressed.
I was horribly depressed and
I just wanted to see the whole world burn.

One
of my worst
experience
s of being a fat ass was
at a gym
which
was
just
a h
orrible one. I was part
of the
Pilates
class. I was in the middle of the class. I was surrounded by a bunch of snobby women who happened to be fit
and a couple of fat women in the class and I was one of them
. T
he
male
instru
ctor was
rude,
with a French accent
, who
was obviously gay
,
not that there was anything wrong with that
.
He dressed in very short silk shorts and a tight undershirt. He had the flattest stomach ever
…
He would yell at anyone who wasn’t motivated enough. I was yelled at by him constantly. “Come on you, pick up the pace!” he yelled. I gave him a dirty look. I was lifting my legs and struggling as fast as I could to keep up with the group. Suddenly, in the middle of the session, as I was on my back doing some stretches, lifting my legs over,
I let out a loud fart! As embarrassed as I was it stunk! I got off my sweaty fat ass and left the class. I was not alone as half the class took a break
,
but I knew it was cause I let
a hard
one out. It must have been the tacos and chili I had eaten th
e night before. I was really humiliated. In the change room after
Pilates
class
,
I noticed all the women who were showering, and I admired how slim and fit they were with their firm boobs
and nice asses
. I did the
impossible. I walked in
the shower room
naked with my fat bo
dy and joined them
. From the side of my eye I noticed the smirks and dirty looks that I was getting.
The two women near me were in a hurry to get out of the shower since they didn’t want to be showering
next
to my disgusting sweaty, smelly body. I drenched myself with body wash and closed my
eyes. A minute later I was washed off
.
I looked around and the shower was abandoned. I felt like I was like the
plague. People just hated me as I hated them
. The next class was the last class I ever went to. It was business as usual. I was getting yelled at by the instructor, the women around me hated every second of my presence, and then it was time for a squat exercise that I was not used to doing. The instructor wanted all of us women to go up and down and up and down. I was trying to keep up but I couldn’t. The instructor came up to me to degrade me.
He was yelling at me while the other women laughed. “Let’s go girl, move it! Up and down! Up and down, and up and down! Move it, faster, faster
,
faster! Move
it
!” He ordered. I was exhausted
and sweating out of my
ass. Suddenly, as I went down, I sharted—and fell on my
fat
ass! It stunk and I ran out of the class crying and never went back. I w
as never so degraded in my life!
After all that hard work
I only shed off six pounds. I gained like twenty pounds back the next week
and
I was so unbelievably depressed out of my mind.

I thought if I grew my hair,
I would have looked less fat. My short blonde hai
r could have been longer. There were a million ways that
would have
made me look thinner, or so I thought.
I was so fed up with my crappy life.
At one point of my life
I was suicidal.
I had never seen a doctor but I was
surprised I never did. A girl in
my condition should have seen a shrink but it never happened.
I thought about jumping off the top of my building on my birthdays. I didn’t want to shoot myself, I wanted my suicide to be epic and I wanted to be remembered.
As soon as I turned eighteen, I decided to make my wish
come true.
I was engorged with motivation; I was willing to do anything.
Even though the things I’ve done were
wrong in every way, I didn't care! I was one in a million. I was one desperate fat girl on a mission.

My life was pretty
pitiful
. I was living on my own in some crappy
,
one bedroom, rundown looking apartment.
The hallways had garbage everywhere and smelled like a
rat’s
ass.  
I had a few of my neighbor's over to help celebrate my eighteenth birthday.
Mother
Nature
must have hated me because t
he sun didn`t even shine on my birthday
, ever
.

I wished for the same thing all throughout high school. I wished I was thin. I wanted to be the thinnest girl in the world.
I had dreams about it.
I went to bed on my eighteenth birthday and cried myself to bed. I would usually
watch a romantic movie and masturbate, while eating junk food, and drinking beer.
My couch would be soaked from how wet I got and from
how much all the sweat
my body produced.

If no man was going to serve me, I would have to service myself. Sometimes I would read a book to help me sleep. I wished sometimes that I would never wake up.

It wasn't long after my eighteenth birthday that I took off for a long trip from town to town. I packed up my backpack, emptied my bank account and was going to take a long vacation.

Vampires were scarcely a part of the community and I was about to seek out a vampire lover. If real men didn't want me, I was willing to do anything for a vampire to love me. I heard rumors, that to a vampire, it was about what's in the inside that mattered and not about what was on the outside. I wished the same was true for most men's way of thinking.

I used to dream I was a sexy successful woman. The ugly truth was that I was not
tall;
I was full figured, well, more like fat. I had short blonde hair,
and light blue eyes, complimented by zits covered with tons of make-up. I wore dark clothes to hide my fat
ness, and it was a great idea that I did.

I was not ve
ry outgoing and hated
crowded places. I would judge myself in the mirror very often and rated myself out of ten. Usually it was a zero out of ten, but I was being way too generous to myself.

I hated what I saw and thought to myself: "The way I look
ed
, how could anyone ever love me?" I had the worst features. I hated my big ugly looking nose, and thick eyebrows to match my thick reading glasses. Cel
lulite loved to creep up on my thi
ghs
and ass. I hated the way I looked in pictures with my triple chin. To ease my depression, I read a lot of books. Sometimes I thought about the days when I was younger and how much I hated school. I also thought about the good times. I wanted to run to a place far away, and never ever come back.

In High School people teased me for being overweight and would call me chunky, beasty, cow, and all sorts of shit. No guys ever attempted to tell me that I was somewhat attractive or at least cute, which is what I hoped
for. I was also a bit of a nerd and had very few friends. I was the one girl that really had a hard time talking with guys.

I had my first crush when I was in 9th grade. His name was Matthew and he was an absolute hottie in my eyes. This gorgeous
guy
had perfect brown wavy hair, blue eyes, and was the best player of the soccer team.