My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding - By Katya Starkey Page 0,60
around their houses who probably weigh ten stone more than I do. The fucking bitches.
I’m fuming mad now. Slamming my laptop shut I pick up my phone and ring Naomi at the local paper. “Can you have the comments section removed on our feature page!” I don’t even scream this at her down the phone as a question, I’m that angry.
“The what?” Is the response I get from Naomi. “Bear with me a moment.” I hear ticking noises down the line. “Oh!” Naomi exclaims. “You mean the comments in the online newspaper version?”
I’m guessing she’s seen the ‘fat woman’ comments from the trolls. “Yes, of course that’s what I mean. Can they be removed?”
“I suppose they should be, right?” Naomi pauses. “Oh this one’s particularly nasty, did you read the one that says you should all go on a diet—”
“Yes!” I interrupt her, not caring about rudeness in the slightest. “I’ve read quite a lot of them, and I would hope that I don’t have to read any more when I log back on later!”
I slam my iPhone face down onto the counter, but then I just have to pick it up again to end the call properly. After placing the phone down gently this time, I run upstairs and slide face first into bed. I cry my eyes out into the bunched up pillow beneath me, weeping like a child who’s just been teased on the school playground.
Why are some people so cruel? And why did I forget my phone downstairs? Now I can’t even ring up Callum to tell him what’s happened. Not that I should let him see me like this. I certainly hope he doesn’t view the online version of that stupid photoshoot. He’ll see the comments and… and…
And he’ll probably agree with them!
“Oh whaaaaaa!” I bawl my eyes out and smash my face into the pillow again. “I’m such a fat arsed blimp!” I mumble into the pillow but my voice is so muffled the only sounds I make are muted cries of patheticness.
Well to hell with this. I sit up and throw my snotty pillow at the wall. “Stupid fucking internet bitch trolls!” I rage at the air and jump out of bed. Oh god, it really is my time of the month. “Calm yourself woman.”
I’m now standing facing the full length mirror. Any effects of last night’s soothing hot bath have definitely worn off and I think I could use another soak. Before I head into the bathroom I take off all my clothes and look at my nude reflection. My big boobs seem to be exploding with puffiness, my waist curves in but there’s always been that pooch sticking out below my belly button. My hips are enormous! I try to flatten them using my hands, but they just pop back out again when I drop my arms to my sides.
“Right. That’s it.” From now on I’m a woman on a mission. I think I’ve vowed to myself before to take on more exercise, but this time I truly mean it! I can’t go on in this body. I really am a big fat whale like those stupid internet trolls said. Okay so the male commenters on the newspaper website actually seemed to like our womanly curves, but I certainly don’t feel at all sexy right now.
Why did I have to read the bloody comments in the first place? I’m such an idiot.
Storming into the bathroom makes my boobs jiggle annoyingly, so I slow down when filling up the tub. Maybe if I make the water really hot it will melt all the fat under my skin. Then it will simply be a matter of draining out the fat from the tub.
“Hah!” I bark an insane laugh while swiping away more tears that have begun to flow. I mean, it’s not like I can get under my skin to scrape away the body fat with a skimmer or something. Damn, I really am losing the plot. I need to do something to cheer myself up today. I know I said I was going to check to make sure Naomi deleted all of the newspaper comments, but now I honestly don’t care. After my bath I’m not going online at all. In fact, I may never use the internet ever again.
Stupid internet. “Stupid social networking sites.”
I talk to myself throughout my entire bathing process. This actually manages to calm me and not turn me into a raving lunatic who nearly considered opening up