Post by ShadowBunny on Jan 19, 2010 11:27:52 GMT 10
Title: Flawed.
Rating: PG.
Summary: sort of a drabble series about Kel.
Author's Note: this is the first fic I've written in about... 6 years so I hope it's okay.
-
She stares at the mirror, studying her reflection and pinching at the fat that only she can see. ‘This just won’t do’ she thinks to herself as she keeps on pinching ‘200 sit ups and 2 pattern dances before dinner’.
-
“You really should try some of this cake, it’s delicious!” he cries as he waves a fork loaded with sugar, with fat, in her direction. “The cooks have really outdone themselves!”. She refuses, says she has a stomach ache whilst inside she thinks ‘I can’t eat that, it will ruin me. I’m fat enough as it is’.
-
She’s exhausted. It’s 3 bells past midnight and she can’t sleep. She rises from her bed and begins to run through her series of exercises. She feels faint, woozy, but she pushes through it and keeps working. She must be perfect, she must be trim and muscular.
-
“Come inside, you’ll freeze to death!” they call as they watch her make another lap of the snow covered practice grounds. Lazy, unfocused, weak willed. Those words apply to them, not her. Perfect, athletic, strong. She’ll make those words her own. They are her personal motto.’ Perfect’. She throws a punch. ‘Athletic’. She makes a pass. ‘Strong’. She swings at the pells. They are her rhythm, her chant, her heartbeat. Perfect, athletic, strong. They will be hers.
-
“You really should be resting” he says, concern in his eyes. “You took a nasty blow and you need to let yourself heal”. She nods, mouths something about what would she do without him looking out for her. Inside, she fumes. How dare he! If she rests, she’ll lose her edge. She’s almost at the point of perfection, it’s within her grasp. If she stops now she’ll lose it.
-
She hasn’t had her monthlies for some time. She doesn’t care. It means less interference with her training regime. Her body is thin, strong as whipcord, deadly as a blade made of Yamani steel. But she cannot see it. She stares at the mirror and all she can see is flaws. Her belly wobbles just that tiny bit. Her arms are still too thin, they need more muscle. Her legs don’t have enough definition.
She thinks to herself ‘I’m almost there. Nearly perfect. Just a few more sit ups’. She runs through her series of exercises and nearly faints. This is a symptom of the weakness she hides. It is her greatest secret, that she is weak. People think her invincible; they describe her as a pillar of strength, of serenity. But secretly she’s just a thing of patched together flaws.
She stares at the mirror, but she can’t see that it lies.
Rating: PG.
Summary: sort of a drabble series about Kel.
Author's Note: this is the first fic I've written in about... 6 years so I hope it's okay.
-
She stares at the mirror, studying her reflection and pinching at the fat that only she can see. ‘This just won’t do’ she thinks to herself as she keeps on pinching ‘200 sit ups and 2 pattern dances before dinner’.
-
“You really should try some of this cake, it’s delicious!” he cries as he waves a fork loaded with sugar, with fat, in her direction. “The cooks have really outdone themselves!”. She refuses, says she has a stomach ache whilst inside she thinks ‘I can’t eat that, it will ruin me. I’m fat enough as it is’.
-
She’s exhausted. It’s 3 bells past midnight and she can’t sleep. She rises from her bed and begins to run through her series of exercises. She feels faint, woozy, but she pushes through it and keeps working. She must be perfect, she must be trim and muscular.
-
“Come inside, you’ll freeze to death!” they call as they watch her make another lap of the snow covered practice grounds. Lazy, unfocused, weak willed. Those words apply to them, not her. Perfect, athletic, strong. She’ll make those words her own. They are her personal motto.’ Perfect’. She throws a punch. ‘Athletic’. She makes a pass. ‘Strong’. She swings at the pells. They are her rhythm, her chant, her heartbeat. Perfect, athletic, strong. They will be hers.
-
“You really should be resting” he says, concern in his eyes. “You took a nasty blow and you need to let yourself heal”. She nods, mouths something about what would she do without him looking out for her. Inside, she fumes. How dare he! If she rests, she’ll lose her edge. She’s almost at the point of perfection, it’s within her grasp. If she stops now she’ll lose it.
-
She hasn’t had her monthlies for some time. She doesn’t care. It means less interference with her training regime. Her body is thin, strong as whipcord, deadly as a blade made of Yamani steel. But she cannot see it. She stares at the mirror and all she can see is flaws. Her belly wobbles just that tiny bit. Her arms are still too thin, they need more muscle. Her legs don’t have enough definition.
She thinks to herself ‘I’m almost there. Nearly perfect. Just a few more sit ups’. She runs through her series of exercises and nearly faints. This is a symptom of the weakness she hides. It is her greatest secret, that she is weak. People think her invincible; they describe her as a pillar of strength, of serenity. But secretly she’s just a thing of patched together flaws.
She stares at the mirror, but she can’t see that it lies.