Nothing hurts more than to be ridiculed for the shape of your body. Whether it be thin or fat, they’ll still laugh. It is hopeless to please them. I shouldn’t let their words get to me, but why do they?

The feeling of safeness has been shattered since the first day of high school. Being told I had anorexia judging from my looks was horrible. I was just a tall stick thin girl. It wasn’t right for a stranger to say it so bluntly. I was mortified as everyone laid their eyes on me. Silent giggles and protests were heard all around. Some agreed with the stranger while the statement angered others. I wanted to cry right there and then, but I didn’t. A tiny group of students kept on humiliating me from that day on. Though it was only a small group of teens who weren’t mentally grown up, it still scarred me to this day, leaving a sickly disorder I haven’t gotten over.

Why can’t they see the way I’m hurting? Why can’t they think about their evil doings? Why do they feel so euphoric after seeing me in pain? Why? These thoughts rush through me on a regular basis as I come home from school.

I was sick and tired of all the hate that I moved to Seoul in hopes to start anew in a different school. Though I’ve moved, the “sickness” still has stayed with me. Every now and then I would do the sickly act. It was oddly strange that I would get a sort of reassurance from it. Funny… I was bullied for looking anorexic and now I really am…

I’ve met a group of boys whom I adore with all my heart in this new school of mine. I would have never thought that I would be an addition to this group of close-knit friends. Although I am the only girl, I have no trouble fitting in. They were welcoming and I’ve grown to be the “older sister” of the group, or, as they would call, “EXO”. We were a family who stuck up for one another. I finally felt safe and accepted.

I was still looked upon as an anorexic. I’ve come to accept it because that is what I have become. It hurts but it is the truth that I cannot deny. At times of stress, I’d have all these suicidal thoughts just rush through me. I know that life does and will get better, but the thought of all the pain going away just captivates me. Sometimes I would cut myself and sometimes I would vomit; it was all done on purpose. I would scold myself after each event, thinking about what EXO would say about this. I haven’t told them of my “sickness” because I guess I’m afraid to be out casted, but I know that they weren’t those types of people.

Why? Why am I so afraid?

This chapter is a short background on Hana the OC