Author's note: This is my first fic and I would love to hear what you all think of it! And please, be gentle.
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING, NADA, NONE... got it?
[] mean a character is thinking something.
* means emphasis on a word(s).
Quest for Perfection
| Chapter One: How it All Began |
Isn't it weird how things spin out of control all of the sudden? It's like you think you're in control of everything and you feel on top of the world or something. Then, in the blink of an eye, you've lost all control. That's when you're asking yourself where everything went wrong. I'm constantly asking myself that very question, but I never can figure out the answer. I used to have trouble solving mathematical equations... now I'm having trouble with something much more puzzling: Finding out where I took the wrong, life-changing turn in the road. Okay, so you're probably saying, "What is that McGuire girl talking about?". Well, in order for you to understand what I'm saying, I have to go back to the beginning when this all started in early January.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh my gosh," my best friend Miranda Sanchez exclaimed with excitement, "This skirt is so you, Lizzie. I think you should get it! It's only fifteen dollars."
I looked at the short, sparkly piece of clothing dangling from the hanger. It was totally cool, and I wanted it so bad. [It would go great with my baby blue tanktop] I thought to myself.
"I'll go try it on," I said, grabbing it off the clothing rack.
Miranda furrowed her eyebrows with confusion. "You're going to try it on? Lizzie, you *never* have to try anything on! *Everything* fits *you*."
"Yeah, I know," I replied, "But it looks a little small. I just want to make sure it fits."
Having said that, I dashed off to the dressing rooms and peeked under each door, looking for an empty one. Four dressing rooms later, I found one and went right into it, closing the door behind me. I was so anxious to try on that skirt. I stepped out of my shoes and my clothes and took the skirt, pausing for a second to admire the eye catching shimmer of the sparkles that it was covered in. Then, I shook my head to pull myself out of the daze and climbed into the skirt. Slowly, I pulled it up my legs... but once it hit my thighs, it wouldn't budge. I pulled and pulled and pulled, but the skirt wouldn't go up anymore. I slid it down my legs and kicked it off my feet. [IT DOESN'T FIT ME!] I thought, clenching my fists with anger. What was up with that? I mean, I had fit into practically every piece of clothing that had ever been made. Had I gained weight? No, that's not possible! I never, ever gain any weight. I turned towards the mirror and slowly examined my reflection; same
old hair, same old eyes, same old nose, same old lips... and a disgusting body. I continued to scan myself, except I only focused on my body. About five minutes later, I suddenly came to a realization; I, Lizzie McGuire, was FAT!
"Well...?" Miranda asked as I stormed out of the dressing rooms in a fury.
"It doesn't fit!" I admitted, holding the skirt up and grinding my teeth.
Miranda blinked in amazement, "No freaking way!"
I nodded, hanging the skirt back up, "Yes freaking way!"
"But Lizzie," she said, "You fit into *everything*!"
I bit my lip, "Would you shut up?! Quit saying that because it's NOT true!"
Miranda looked a little hurt by my sudden outburst. "Sorry," she mumbled with a frown.
"No, no, no," I shook my head and waved my hands, "It's not your fault. It's my fault."
"Your fault?" Miranda asked, a quizzical expression on her face.
"Yeah," I nodded, "It's my fault that I'm fat."
Miranda rolled her eyes, "Lizzie, you're not fat! That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. You're tinier than me!"
I sighed, "Miranda, *you're* thin... *I'm* not. I need to lose five pounds. That's all."
"No you don't! But hey, if you want to then go ahead."
"I will," I declared, holding my head high. "From this moment on, I am officially on a diet!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Lizzie, time for dinner," mom yelled from downstairs.
I was in my room doing my Math homework. I had been working on it nonstop for the past hour, and I thought I deserved a break. I ran downstairs and into the kitchen, where everyone was already seated for dinner.
"Hey sweetie," mom said with a big smile, "I made spaghetti because I know how much you love it!"
I sighed deeply. The aroma from mom's delicious spaghetti flowed up into my nostrils and made my mouth water. But I couldn't eat it. I had decided earlier that day when I was at the mall with Miranda that I was going to go on a diet, and I vowed to stick to it. I *had* to resist mom's scrumptious cooking, despite how badly I wanted to eat it. I *needed* to lose five pounds. I couldn't be weak and give in. I had to be strong and resist temptation.
"No thanks mom," I said, "I'll just have a salad and some of that fat free yogurt you just bought a few days ago. I'm on a diet."
Mom's eyes grew big, even bigger than, like, bigfoot or whatever.
"Lizzie," she said calmly, "You don't need to go on a diet! You're fine just the way you are."
"I agree," dad said with a nod.
"You don't need to lose any weight," Matt said, "But you do need to have plastic surgery. Your face is so ugly!"
"Matt!" dad scolded.
Matt grinned mischeviously, "Sorry,".
I ignored his ignorant comment and said, "Mom, I just want to lose a few pounds. I mean, a simple diet never hurt anyone!"
Mom shook her head and pursed her lips, "Alright. Just be careful, okay? And be sensible about this diet."
"Okay," I smiled, "Now can I have my salad and yogurt?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ninety nine, one hundred!" I said, having finished all one hundred of my sit ups.
I got up off the floor and threw myself on my bed. I had come up with what I thought was the perfect exercise plan; Ten minutes of jogging in place, and one hundred push ups and one hundred sit ups everynight before bed. I grinned with satisfaction. [This diet thing is really going to work], I thought. I had eaten a healthy meal that day, which was a nice little salad and a small container of fat free raspberry yogurt, and I had burned all the calories from that meal. I felt great.
"McGuire, you *so*rock," I said to myself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter two coming soon!
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING, NADA, NONE... got it?
[] mean a character is thinking something.
* means emphasis on a word(s).
Quest for Perfection
| Chapter One: How it All Began |
Isn't it weird how things spin out of control all of the sudden? It's like you think you're in control of everything and you feel on top of the world or something. Then, in the blink of an eye, you've lost all control. That's when you're asking yourself where everything went wrong. I'm constantly asking myself that very question, but I never can figure out the answer. I used to have trouble solving mathematical equations... now I'm having trouble with something much more puzzling: Finding out where I took the wrong, life-changing turn in the road. Okay, so you're probably saying, "What is that McGuire girl talking about?". Well, in order for you to understand what I'm saying, I have to go back to the beginning when this all started in early January.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh my gosh," my best friend Miranda Sanchez exclaimed with excitement, "This skirt is so you, Lizzie. I think you should get it! It's only fifteen dollars."
I looked at the short, sparkly piece of clothing dangling from the hanger. It was totally cool, and I wanted it so bad. [It would go great with my baby blue tanktop] I thought to myself.
"I'll go try it on," I said, grabbing it off the clothing rack.
Miranda furrowed her eyebrows with confusion. "You're going to try it on? Lizzie, you *never* have to try anything on! *Everything* fits *you*."
"Yeah, I know," I replied, "But it looks a little small. I just want to make sure it fits."
Having said that, I dashed off to the dressing rooms and peeked under each door, looking for an empty one. Four dressing rooms later, I found one and went right into it, closing the door behind me. I was so anxious to try on that skirt. I stepped out of my shoes and my clothes and took the skirt, pausing for a second to admire the eye catching shimmer of the sparkles that it was covered in. Then, I shook my head to pull myself out of the daze and climbed into the skirt. Slowly, I pulled it up my legs... but once it hit my thighs, it wouldn't budge. I pulled and pulled and pulled, but the skirt wouldn't go up anymore. I slid it down my legs and kicked it off my feet. [IT DOESN'T FIT ME!] I thought, clenching my fists with anger. What was up with that? I mean, I had fit into practically every piece of clothing that had ever been made. Had I gained weight? No, that's not possible! I never, ever gain any weight. I turned towards the mirror and slowly examined my reflection; same
old hair, same old eyes, same old nose, same old lips... and a disgusting body. I continued to scan myself, except I only focused on my body. About five minutes later, I suddenly came to a realization; I, Lizzie McGuire, was FAT!
"Well...?" Miranda asked as I stormed out of the dressing rooms in a fury.
"It doesn't fit!" I admitted, holding the skirt up and grinding my teeth.
Miranda blinked in amazement, "No freaking way!"
I nodded, hanging the skirt back up, "Yes freaking way!"
"But Lizzie," she said, "You fit into *everything*!"
I bit my lip, "Would you shut up?! Quit saying that because it's NOT true!"
Miranda looked a little hurt by my sudden outburst. "Sorry," she mumbled with a frown.
"No, no, no," I shook my head and waved my hands, "It's not your fault. It's my fault."
"Your fault?" Miranda asked, a quizzical expression on her face.
"Yeah," I nodded, "It's my fault that I'm fat."
Miranda rolled her eyes, "Lizzie, you're not fat! That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. You're tinier than me!"
I sighed, "Miranda, *you're* thin... *I'm* not. I need to lose five pounds. That's all."
"No you don't! But hey, if you want to then go ahead."
"I will," I declared, holding my head high. "From this moment on, I am officially on a diet!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Lizzie, time for dinner," mom yelled from downstairs.
I was in my room doing my Math homework. I had been working on it nonstop for the past hour, and I thought I deserved a break. I ran downstairs and into the kitchen, where everyone was already seated for dinner.
"Hey sweetie," mom said with a big smile, "I made spaghetti because I know how much you love it!"
I sighed deeply. The aroma from mom's delicious spaghetti flowed up into my nostrils and made my mouth water. But I couldn't eat it. I had decided earlier that day when I was at the mall with Miranda that I was going to go on a diet, and I vowed to stick to it. I *had* to resist mom's scrumptious cooking, despite how badly I wanted to eat it. I *needed* to lose five pounds. I couldn't be weak and give in. I had to be strong and resist temptation.
"No thanks mom," I said, "I'll just have a salad and some of that fat free yogurt you just bought a few days ago. I'm on a diet."
Mom's eyes grew big, even bigger than, like, bigfoot or whatever.
"Lizzie," she said calmly, "You don't need to go on a diet! You're fine just the way you are."
"I agree," dad said with a nod.
"You don't need to lose any weight," Matt said, "But you do need to have plastic surgery. Your face is so ugly!"
"Matt!" dad scolded.
Matt grinned mischeviously, "Sorry,".
I ignored his ignorant comment and said, "Mom, I just want to lose a few pounds. I mean, a simple diet never hurt anyone!"
Mom shook her head and pursed her lips, "Alright. Just be careful, okay? And be sensible about this diet."
"Okay," I smiled, "Now can I have my salad and yogurt?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ninety nine, one hundred!" I said, having finished all one hundred of my sit ups.
I got up off the floor and threw myself on my bed. I had come up with what I thought was the perfect exercise plan; Ten minutes of jogging in place, and one hundred push ups and one hundred sit ups everynight before bed. I grinned with satisfaction. [This diet thing is really going to work], I thought. I had eaten a healthy meal that day, which was a nice little salad and a small container of fat free raspberry yogurt, and I had burned all the calories from that meal. I felt great.
"McGuire, you *so*rock," I said to myself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter two coming soon!