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Aiden
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Slim I'm Reaching
SlimI stared down at her, waiting for her to speak. Her eyes widened just a bit, and I knew I caught her off-guard. But as she laughed, I raised an eyebrow."That," she paused to laugh. "That was smooth," she said, pulling away from me as she laughed.I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the railing, waiting for her to sober up. As untimely as this was, it amused me how she could laugh in serious situations. It seemed like the only time she was genuinely happy."Okay, okay, let's try this again," she said, still giggling, and I rolled my eyes, taking her hand and bringing her closer to me. I lifted her chin, lowering my lips to hers before moving them to her ear, shifting some hair out of the way."Does it make any sense," I started, letting my hand slip further down her back, "if we both already know the answer?" I finished, watching as she shivered.Slowly, the moonlight revealed the dark tint of red on her cheeks, and I chuckled, tilting my head back and staring
Slim Reminice
ChloeI sat on the floor of the apartment, surrounded by papers and pictures, as tears streamed down my face. The sound of my sobs reverberated through the room, and as the sun set, its gentle glow filled the space.Aiden, seated across from me, cried out in his own anguish. His little voice cracked, and I knew he needed comfort just as much as I did. Summoning all my strength, I crawled across the floor, unable to stand, and reached out to pick him up. I brought him close to me, holding him tightly against my tear-soaked chest. Slowly, his cries subsided, and he nestled his head against my neck. Gazing out through the large window, I looked at the city sprawled before me. "Why do you look at me like that?" I asked, lifting my gaze from my cup. He shrugged, momentarily averting his eyes."You're beautiful," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets and leaning against the doorway. "Even if you don't realize it.""You're just being nice," I replied, playfully pointing my pinky fing
Slim Embarrassment
Chapter One ChloeI stared at my reflection in the mirror, observing how my top clung tightly to my body while my jeans were a little bigger than what most girls wore. As a child, I used to imagine myself as a tall supermodel with the stereotypical "slim waist" that all the boys desired. But as the reality of being a "fat girl" set in, I faced constant bullying and ridicule. Weighing in at around two hundred pounds, I became the target of relentless taunts. Every day, as I walked through the school gates, I was greeted with hurtful comments like, "Hey Fatty, I heard you sweat bacon grease." The popular kids were merciless, chipping away at my self-esteem until it crumbled.This all began when my mother fell ill. I struggled to cope with her absence, turning to food as my solace. I hoped people would understand that I was going through a difficult time and accept me for who I was. Unfortunately, society had different plans. Instead of empathy, I received the opposite. It seemed that n
Slim Anxiety Attacks
ChloeThe guy I had nicknamed "Blowjob guy" had left before anything happened, leaving me alone on the balcony once again with the attractive guy. I stared down at the blunt, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. I had imagined myself gracefully inhaling and exhaling the smoke, as easy as they made it look on television. But reality turned out quite differently. As I pulled from the blunt, the smoke burned my throat, causing me to immediately choke. My throat tightened, and in the midst of my coughing fit, I heard his chair scrape against the ground as he approached and took the blunt from my hands."This ain't for you, I guess," he said nonchalantly, and I took a moment to appreciate his thick New York accent. It made my heart flutter, even though he seemed indifferent to my well-being.Once I regained my composure, I looked up and found him leaning back in his chair, now smoking the blunt he had taken from me. He seemed so perfect-his body, voice, hair, face-everything abou
Slim Tell Me
ChloeThe more Hayden drove, the more sober I became. And with sobriety came the flood of memories and emotions. Depression. I had been battling depression since I turned nine. It was a pain that nobody could truly understand, not even my parents.What I longed for was to hear them say, "Don't worry, sweetie. We're here to help you." But instead, those words came from the therapist they sent me to the very next day. Therapy was never much of a solace. It felt like going through the motions, with someone paid to question me rather than genuinely care.But despite the darkness, suicide was never an option for me. As much as I despised my life, I held on to the belief that things could get better. I couldn't bear the thought of passing my pain on to someone else. Hayden glanced at me briefly, and as we passed under a streetlight, I noticed a birthmark on his cheek-a dark shade of red that resembled a perfectly placed splash of paint. He was about to say something when the flashing red
Slim Therapy
Chloe The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my back from sleeping in an uncomfortable position all night. Well, it was a bathtub after all. I went into my room and took a quick shower, trying not to stare at myself for too long. Dwelling on my appearance only brought tears to my eyes. Shaking away those thoughts, I slipped into an outfit, let my hair down from the ponytail, applied a minimal amount of makeup, and left the house. As usual, there was no one home.I hailed a cab and settled into the backseat, attempting to relax as it drove through the busy city streets. I watched as the rush of commuters filled the roads, businessmen and women hurrying to get to work on time. The streets were crowded, and a heavy sigh escaped my lips.The cab pulled up in front of my destination - the hospital. Looking at the imposing building before me, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. I glanced around the crowded waiting area before making my way to the reception desk."Hi," I s
Slim Hair
ChloeHayden looked at me, his eyes devoid of emotion as they locked onto mine. I wasn't sure why we were staring at each other, but the intensity was palpable. The therapist had stepped out of the room for a brief moment, and I made the mistake of glancing over at Hayden. Now I couldn't tear my gaze away from him."What's wrong with your mother?" he asked, leaning back and rubbing his temples. I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to share that part of my life with him. It wasn't because I didn't trust him, but because I didn't want to sink back into the depths of depression by dwelling on it."It's okay," he shrugged nonchalantly, his thick accent making it difficult for me to find my words before he swiftly grabbed his phone and began typing rapidly. I leaned my head back just as the therapist reentered the room and settled back into her seat."Okay, Slim. Now it's your turn. Where are your parents?" she inquired, oblivious to my silent warning. Unfortunately, she didn't catch on."Keep
Slim School
ChloeI pursed my lips, quickly inserting my earbuds and turning on my music to drown out the world around me. I avoided eye contact with everyone and headed towards the empty seats in the back of the bus.Unbeknownst to me, a boy stuck his foot out, causing me to trip and collide with it. I let out a shriek as I fell forward, hitting my head on the seat and collapsing onto the ground. My head throbbed, and the sound of laughter filled the air. Even the nerds, who usually stayed out of such situations, didn't offer any help. I didn't blame them; it wasn't their mess to get involved in.Sighing, I picked myself up and sat down, leaning my head back. As I looked at my reflection on the screen of my old phone, I noticed a purple mark forming from the impact on my head.Instead of reacting, I stayed silent, enduring their taunts and trying my best not to cry. That's all I ever seemed to do-cry, cry, and cry until there were no tears left.But the sobs remained, a constant reminder that m
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