Girls always take forever in the bathroom!

Here’s a new short story I wrote about self-consciousness and insecurity. It’s called Girls always take forever in the bathroom (obviously).


Alicia woke up and headed to the bathroom for her morning routine. As always, she took five minutes of her time to scan her features in the mirror. She ran her hands on it, caressing the gorgeous girl standing behind the looking-glass. Her reflection was so beautiful; she had everything right. “Look at her, so confident!” she said with a bitter tone. Alicia looked so pretty in there, she thought, but how come she looked different in pictures? When she took selfies, she looked ugly, to say the least; her face wasn’t the same. She kept staring at the girl, feeling her insides getting smothered by envy. “I wish I looked more like you…” she whispered. She turned around and wiped the tears on her cheeks.
“Her face is symmetrical enough for her to look perfect. She’s so pretty.”, she sighed. She put a lot of pressure on herself regarding her beauty but she never seemed to reach her own high standards, whereas that girl in the mirror was all she dreamed of looking like. She was always one step ahead of Alicia. She turned around slowly to face her reflection. “She’s a pleasure to look at!” Her lips shifted into a bitter pout and her stare grew sharper. Everything was wrong. She felt useless; she was a complete failure at her favorite things in life and she couldn’t even match her reflection, yet she tried so hard! That girl wasn’t even doing anything and always ended up better than her.
Alicia took her phone swaying on the edge of the washstand like a tightrope walker. She glanced angrily at her reflection before taking a selfie. “I look like shit! Look at this! I’m a mess!”, she said pointing her phone to the mirror. In an emotional outburst she threw her phone against the door and started yelling. “Stop it! Stop being better than me!” She was so mad. “I want to be pretty! Stop it you fucking bitch! STOP IT!” She was now banging on the glass surface with her hands. “STOP IT. I WANT TO BE PRETTY! I WANT TO BE PRETTY!” She kept yelling those words over and over but with her head banging on the mirror this time. With each hit small cracks appeared and they were soon filled with Alicia’s blood. She banged and banged and banged; and then she stopped.
She crouched to pick up her phone. Again facing the mirror, she looked at her reflection then back at herself through her phone’s selfie camera, and they were both covered in blood. But still, somehow, the bitch in the mirror managed to look better than she ever had. Her head was pounding, but she kept staring. She tried to smile but it looked more like an evil smirk on her reflection. And with all the malevolence its features were filled with, she still looked better than Alicia. Envy had enveloped her heart and this was the straw that broke her back; she was done. In a last resort, she banged her head against the piece of glass again and harder than before, causing blood to splash pretty much everywhere this time. All her hope was gone; if she hadn’t slipped in the pool of her own blood and fell to the floor, she wouldn’t have stopped.
Alicia’s mother was tired of always hearing those same fights every morning. It was always the same tune and she got used to it with time. But when she heard the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, she ran to the bathroom to check on her daughter. The door was locked so she knocked multiple times, calling out Alicia’s name while she did so. After several knocks, she forced it open only to find her baby girl lying on the ground with her forehead cracked open but still wearing that stupid frown on her face. “You’re still ugly as fuck!”, she said. She laughed like a maniac with her finger pointed to Alicia’s face. She was still fading and in indescribable pain. She gathered all the strength she had left to let out a scream. “Stoooop!”
Alicia yelled as she awoke from a bad dream. Her mother rushed in the room. “What is it baby?!”

“Mom, I keep having that same nightmare! It won’t stop! It’s always the same!” she whined.

“Oh, you’re really self-conscious about that zit on your forehead aren’t you?”

“… I guess so… It’s so embarrassing.” she blushed.

“Oh, honey. It’s just a yearbook picture, maybe I should bring mine out so you can see that not everyone gets to have a perfect picture every year.”, her mother said.


There you go! Hope you liked it! 😉

Also, there’s something (bad?) going on with my Booksie account right now. I don’t know what it is but I contacted the team to see what’s up. I’ll update when I get a reply. I hope nothing’s wrong.

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