Room Magazine

The Other Side of Nothing

ASHLEY LITTLE

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The only reason they’re alive is because I was going out to that field to die. You might think it’s stupid for a fourteen-year-old kid to want to die, but if you were me, you’d want to die too. There are lots of reasons I want to die. I’ll tell you a few of them.

One: I’m fat. Not husky or big-boned, I’m morbidly obese. I can’t even buy clothes in the boys’ section. I have to buy men’s clothes. Fat men’s clothes. Basically, I wear grey track-suits every day. I’ve been fat for as long as I can remember. And I hate myself for it.

Two: I’m ugly. I know that I’m ugly because everyone tells me I’m ugly. Even my dad. Ugly and disgusting, he says. And he’s not wrong. I have acne, rosacea, and a head shaped like a potato. I used to hope I’d get better looking as I got older, but actually, the reverse is true.

Three: I don’t have any friends. I had one, his name was Bruce McAllister. Bruce lived on a pig farm. His clothes smelled piggy and he got lice a lot. But he was my best friend from grade three till grade six and we made forts and rode bikes and went fishing in the creek behind his house. Two years ago, his parents split and Bruce moved to Saskatoon with his mom. I wrote him a letter once. But I never sent it because I didn’t want Bruce to think I was gay for him. I just buried it in a Folger’s tin out behind our tree-fort instead. I think about Bruce a lot, but I know I’ll probably never see him again.

Another reason I want to die is because my mom left me. Well, she left my dad too, but that happens all the time and is not really that big of a deal. What is a big deal is when you leave your kid. Just up and leave. Bam. She left right before I turned eleven. I came home from school one day and everything on her side of the closet was gone. That was it. She never sent me a birthday card or nothing. We don’t even know where she went. We tried to find her for a long time. No one had seen her, no one knew a damn thing. Or else they weren’t telling us what they did know. You know you must be a pretty shit-kid for your own mom to leave you. Your mom’s the only person whose job it is to love you unconditio­nally for your whole entire life, so if your mom ditches, that’s it. You got nothing. That’s me. I’m ugly and disgusting and I’ve got nothing.

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