Pain.

Disgust.

Unloved.

These words explain what I have felt for so long it has become part of me.

The pain I feel each time I wake up, knowing that no one wants me, not even my parents give a shit about me.

The disgust I feel each time I look in the mirror and see what I look like. Fat. Ugly. Disgusting. The cellulite on my thighs, the stomach, the dark stretch marks on my hips and everything, the oversized breasts that surprisingly have no stretch marks.

The love I craved each day but never got it. I never really had friends because upon being fat, I was socially awkward. Very awkward. It was difficult to strike up a conversation with someone and when someone does it or when I manage to do it, I can't maintain it. So I never had friends to listen to me or a shoulder to cry on when I couldn't hold it all in anymore or a friend to at least lie to me and say "You are pretty, you don't look the way you think you do. It is all in your head."

My parents were never there for me when I needed them. To begin with, my mother never wanted a child. She was top shot model who never wanted a child because pregnancy would ruin her perfect figure. Yes. Upon being all gross and fat, I am an accident. So I went straight from my mother's womb into the nanny's arm. She immediately went back to her normal life until unfortunately for her, cancer claimed her when I was 9. My dad also saw me as a mistake. He wasn't ready to be a dad when I was born but because he when he made peace with the fact that he needed an heir, he didn't tell her to get rid of the pregnancy. However, he didn't want any more accidents, so he told my mum to do something to prevent further accidents, so she tied her tubes.

They didn't want me, never did. So they never cared enough to check if I ate, if I stayed up or out till 3 am, if I didn't even come back at all. I was just there in their unnecessarily big mansion which they used to show off. The mansion never felt like home. It had museum feel to it and that was because my father collected art.

I hate mirrors so much. I can't stand the thought of seeing my reflection in them because they show me what I feel everyday. How heavy I am. I have tried to lose weight more times than I can count on my fingers but with each attempt came failure because since I didn't see any result, I got more depressed and ate my feelings away. Who doesn't get upset after working out for a long time without seeing results?

Did it hurt? Yes. Did I stop eating? No. Did I get bigger? Hell yes I did!!

Today seems to be one of my pity party days. I sat on my bed and watched a happy birthday animation on YouTube. Whenever I see people celebrating their birthdays, I can't help but wonder what it feels like. I don't have memories of ever celebrating my birthday. Today is my birthday, and as usual, I am holed up in my room and thinking about my life and crying my eyes out. I wiped my tears away and made a promise to myself, a promise that I will make my next birthday a memorable one.

My name is Danica Maya Roberts. I'm a 19 years dark skinned black girl probably the biggest and most insecure of them all.

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"Miss Danica, your father requests your presence in his office." I heard Mr Howard say through my room door and I caught myself hoping that he remembered what today is. Mr Howard is the butler and has been with my family for as far back as I can remember. He is a greying old man with the cutest granddaughter, Casey, who is the apple of his eyes. I smoothed my hands down my sweater which is big and mid thigh length. I put on my slippers and tried to stomp down the hopeful feeling blooming in my chest.

The sad thing is, even though I knew my father, I still couldn't help but hope each year that maybe they'd remember my birthday. Up until my mum died, I kept hoping. Last year, I hoped. Every other year, I really hoped.

I could almost hear my echoing footsteps as I walked to the other side of the house. When I got there, I knocked on the door and patiently waited for him to invite me in. When I heard the distant "Come in", I walked in.

There he was, the king sitting on his iron throne with his glasses perched on his nose, reading the paper as he does every morning while sipping coffee. At 47, he didn't really look a day older than he did when he was 35.

" Good morning Sir." I said while I waited for him to acknowledge my presence. I am always awkward around him because I don't know how to react around him. When I was 4, my mother had strictly said I shouldn't call her mum or mummy or mother or mama or any other mother-related term because it made her feel old. Just her name. My father never said anything like that and so I didn't know what to call him. I ended up sticking with Sir since that's what the staff call him.

"Maya how are you today?" He replied, folding the paper and looking at me. I don't think he really wants to know. It was probably just for formalities sake.

"I'm fine, thank you. I believe you are in good health." I replied, already used to our usual greetings. Such formal stiff conversation between father and daughter.

"Yes I am, thank you for asking. Happy Birthday. You turned 19 today, yes?" He said and I felt my jaw hit the floor. He even got my age right! I was overcome with emotion.

"Thank you Sir. Yes, I am 19 today." I replied with the biggest smile ever. Wishes do come through!

"Great. I called you in here to let you know that there will be a marriage between you and Mrs. Amanda James' son, Keith."

I blinked once, twice, thrice. "Sir?" My voice sounded so small in my ears, the feelings in my body slowly wilted and gave way to dread.

"The wedding is scheduled to hold a week from today. Everything is already taken care of, all you have to do is show up."

"I don't understand."

"I am not speaking French Maya. I am expanding the business and it's a sort of partnership."

"But I don't want any of that."

"We don't want a lot of what we get in life Maya. You are my heir, but you can't handle the business. I am not only expanding it but I'm also securing it. This business has been in this family for 3 generations and I will not let it fold up in my hands."

"But I am just 19. I'm not yet ready to do this." I cried out, tears welling up in my eyes as each word pierced me like a hot iron.

"I wasn't ready to be a parent when you came Maya. Life happens, you just have to move on. It will be a court marriage and unfortunately, I won't be around on that day, so it will be just you and Keith in there exchanging your vows. Here's a copy of the contract, go through it whenever you want to." He completed as though there was nothing wrong with any of the things he just said.

"Sir..." I began, then thought better and decided to appeal to that side of him that is my parent with the hope that he would feel something. "Dad please. Don't do this to me. I can't...you can't do this to me."

"Danica please don't make this harder than it already is. The fact that we're doing it with them is already a mess on its own. We have to do what we have to do to make ends meet, and in this case, you have to put in your share of the work." He replied and I died a little more inside.

I couldn't say anything in response to that, instead I reached out and took the document with trembling hands and left. I refused to cry in front of him. However, immediately my hand touched my door nub, the first tear dropped, and then the second and third and then the dam broke free.

I hate my life, I hate myself for being so weak I can't even stand up to my own father, I hate the fact that people push me around and I do nothing about it. I wish I was never born.