Part 20

I can't remember the last time I really saw my body in the mirror. I haven't had a reason to care what it looks like. I follow my smooth, white, legs up to broad, womanly hips, spotting a few stretch marks winding their way around my thighs that I don't recall being there before. My belly is still tight and flat, with the exception of the puckered scars that pepper it now. I cringe as I run my fingers over them. Shaking off the unsettling memories, I let my eyes wander up past my small, firm, breasts to settle on the part of myself I hate the most, the one part I can't ignore: The black circles underneath my watery blue eyes; the hard, chiseled, jawline that's more handsome than beautiful; the frizzy tangle of mousy brown hair; the thin lips that, if not for make-up, would seem non-existent; and a nose kinked to the left by two breaks that never set properly. I've considered plastic surgery a number of times over the years, but, never thought it was worth the cost.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK*

"Hey Chrissi, you O.K. in there? If you don't hurry your arse up you're going to be late."

I look at the clock.

 '5:30 pm'

Crap! "Yeah, I'm O.K. thanks Shelly" I scramble around in my bag, find my phone and fire of a quick apology to Stephen:

                          'Soz, running l8. Looking this good takes time u know. ;)'

Argh! I'm so lame.

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