169 followers. The picture was trapped in my mind. This was all everyone was talking about these days, Instagram followers. My name stood at the bottom of the popularity list. And who was at the top? Of course, Olivia Smith. Quickly to follow was the gorgeously handsome, John Gray. But to him, I was just a speck of dust, invisible and irritating. All that rings in my mind all day is “Aesthetic Instagram accounts are the best.” I try to accomplish that but it seems impossible.
I set off into the lush, green forest bordering my house to find an “aesthetic” scene. Trust me, it’s not as easy as it seems. My jeans covered, skinny legs carried my further and further into the riotous scenery. The muddy, dirt path below me turned into a swamp as I arrived at a small puddle. Perfect! A reflection selfie would be great in this. But there was one thing that I was forgetting, I’m ugly as a toad, maybe even worse.
My eyes glared into the puddle, at my reflection. My head immediately averted from the horrific sight. I had been bullied ever since I was young, I really didn’t now why. But as I grew up to my current age, 16, I started to see what they see. A frightful face, the hair. My hair was in between golden and light brown, the color resulted in a petrifying shade.
As I looked deeper into the muddy puddle I saw something! What kind of creature was this? Thoughts dashed through my mind like a never-ending race between two individuals. Then it got clearer, a face. But where was the body? I soon came to realize that this creature didn’t have one. Her hair was a beautiful auburn color and her eyes gleamed the color of the ocean. Again I remember that I will never achieve that beauty. I ripped my eyes off of the beautiful face. It was just an illusion. “Olivia?” a voice that I could listen to all day spoke.
“Where are you?” my scared voice stuttered. I know that I sounded like a toddler in the dark.
“Haha,” the voice chuckled again, “Open your eyes, sweety.” Confusion rustled through my head like the fall leaves falling around me. ” I’m right here, in the puddle!” the voice came again, this time more demanding. My head dropped down, only to see the face speaking. A face, in a puddle, speaking!
My voice screamed as I processed that a face in a puddle was actually speaking, and even to me. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention. “Umm… what do you want?” trembling, lip – quivering me asked sounding now like a lost kitten.
“Oh, honey,” her motherly voice came, “You don’t know that I read minds, do you. I know that this Instagram post in an aesthetic scenery is the only thing that you want. I am here to help you”
“To help me look nice? I don’t think that is possible, Ma’am,” I added, this time with a little more confidence.
“This will take a lot of work,” she mumbled under her breath, thinking that I didn’t hear. “Alright tell me what your real issue is.”
“Umm…,” I stuttered. How could I trust her. But then after a few minutes of thought that if she does tell anyone, I can’t go any lower in social class.”Alright, I’m just looking for a pretty picture for Instagram as you know-” I started.
“Why is this so important to you?” she interrupted. It took me a while to think but I finally got it.
“I just don’t like being bullied or being an invisible, lonely loser. And my crush doesn’t even KNOW me!” my voice raised as I started becoming more comfortable around the beautiful girl.
“And why didn’t you take the picture straight away?” she questioned.
“I’m not beautiful,” I muttered.
“You’re what?” she inquired.
“I’m the least beautiful person on this whole entire world!” I screamed to the whole forest.
Behind me footsteps crept up. “Not to me,” a deep voice replied.