I'd Like to Have One Large Order of Skinny, Please.

One night, while school shopping for new clothes, I pulled on a pair of size 16 skinny jeans and nearly fainted. It was a tight fit; I had gained weight and a lot of it. I looked at myself in the mirror and almost refused to go outside and show my mother how they looked on me. Unfortunately, she still believed I was a size 16 in pants. I opened the door and tried to ignore the other shoppers, especially the girl directly across from me who looked disgusted. My mom looked at the pants that were causing my stomach and behind to stick out terribly and just said, "Oh no, I'll go get a size up for you."
While my mother flip-flopped away from the changing rooms, I pried the too-tight pants off of my body and folded them up again. Then, while I waited patiently for my mother to bring me more pants I heard the girl across from me talk to her mother from inside her changing room say, "Fat girls shouldn't wear skinny jeans. I mean, unless they lose weight. They look terrible, like seriously? Eat less."
Not only did this ignorant statement hurt me, it angered me enough to remember it now, three weeks later. Society today needs to realize that being skinny or overweight is never a choice. Sometimes it is because of heredity, and other times it could just be from legitimate health issues. People classified under "Obesity" on the  Body Mass Index might not have a choice on how they are. For instance, when I was born, I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, meaning that all of my growth hormones were out of whack. This could of been because I was born without a thyroid or it was just not working. Because of this and the fact I grew up with an Italian background, I gain weight five times faster than people who have a working thyroid.
Society has been showing naivety towards the subject of obesity for years, decades even. Yes, I'm over weight, but look at all the overweight successful people that didn't let the cruelty of the modern world get to them: Rosie O'Donnell, Kathy Bates, and even more popular, Oprah Winfrey.
Who's to say that just because I'm fat I can't enjoy life? I try to succeed and that is all that matters to me. Why should it matter to people that I don't even know? Besides, being skinny isn't something you can just buy at a store or McDonalds. I'm not sorry to say that as a girl that has been classified as "obese", I like to eat and be who I am.

Day 6

From what I see,
There is no where,
I would like to be.
It is not fair.

That I must click and click,
Causing pain and death
It makes me sick,
The lack of breath.

The fate of the world,
Is in my hands
A terror unfurls
The air is bland.

Who would have thought
Had my making been clearer
If only I'd been taught,
My luck was only sheer.

Too bad it is that
I am almost gone,
The button clacks,
I'll be done at dawn.

It is my fate
It is untimely
This gruesome date the
Hands of death, slimey.

Day 5

Doomed in a world with no hope, no directions.
I am lost; lost from all that I thought I knew. How could one I believed to be so kind be so much of the opposite?
Humans don't understand me.
I am but a lost soul in a lost plastic body. Plastic in every form possible. Morphed by the poisonous world that I live in. At this point in my useless life, I have no hope. I wish there was a way to end it all, to stop my annoying chatter.
Every time that I get used to a routine it clicks to a stop. All I do is lose what I can't even seem to find. I am a pointless object in a cruel world.

Clickity-Clicker Day 4

The hand felt more rough than I remembered, and I instantly felt unsafe. It was all I could do not to jump from his hand onto the floor; because, you see, all "inanimate objects" must never reveal their true, alive selves to humans. It was a rule. I cannot present myself to anyone. Just you, my little friend. You must see my innermost thoughts as they come across my mind. What mind, might you ask? I wish I could answer. I'm so confused as to what my point is on this here Earth, it depresses me.

It pulls me into a dark madness that nothing can pull me out of. I am a lost soul, but only just. I have no soul, am I right? It's impossible. What a cruel world we live in, Blog. What a cruel world indeed. Never did I expect Dr. Valdenstein to do what he did next. He took me to a lab in a deserted area of the world. I have no clue where, it must have been underground; it was so silent except for the whirring of machines and beeping of his computers. 

The most gruesome experiments followed. I was taken apart, poked and prodded. It was, perhaps, the most humiliating experience in my life. Still, he talked to me as if we were old friends, as if my pain was nonexistent. That night, while I was left alone in the lab room on that cold metal table, I escaped onto the streets of New York City.

Clickity-Clicker Day 3

What about a little clicker is so important in this world? It is a useless object; at least, that's what you think. Who is the man or woman that created this? Why did they create it? How was it created? These are all excellent questions that I think would make a great interrogation. But sadly, I, Click, cannot tell you that. Instead I can tell you the stories of my miserable life. When I was but a week old, I was thrown through a portal made by a scientist called Dr. Valdenstein. Before he threw me, he pressed his lips to my plastic casing and told me that I would soon find my destiny. Whatever the heck that means. He then told me never to try and travel back to the year 2, 732. The future of the world depended on it.
Now, I find myself wondering each and every day what this "destiny" was supposed to be. I was still to be used as a destructive device? Was that the destiny that Dr. Valdenstein had in store for me? I found out one Thursday afternoon when Valdenstein himself sprang from the middle of no where into my life after a five year long stay in the twenty-first century. I heard a bang and then a very familiar voice calling out, "I-Click! I-Click!"
I did not answer, I just merely waited for the voice to get closer as, once again, I was picked up by a massive thing with five appendages. I later learned it was called a hand.

Clickity-Clicker Day 2

Today was, perhaps, the most horrendous day of my nonexistent life. Why, you might ask? Well, let's just say that some random thing with five appendages picked me up and started hitting my nose-button repeatedly. Not only did this cause millions of little voices to scream in protest in my little plastic body, but it also triggered a loud booming and panting sound coming from behind me. Did I mention I have no eyes? I think I did. Did I also mention my presumption of destroying a whole other alternate universe with every click that befalls itself upon me? Oh, I did? Hm. I understand now.

Anyways, not only was I terrified for my well being, I was also scared for the trillions upon trillions of human beings and other such creatures that depended upon me. It was my duty not to click, not to be myself, and to become one with my terrible affinity. 

I was like a leper in a much different sense than the literal term. It was not some fatal disease that slaughtered me; no, it was much worse. It was a fatal click that slaughtered millions of innocent people. 

Why me? Why should I be the one falsely inanimate object that determines who lives and who dies? 

Clickity-Clicker Day 1

Hey, my name is Click. Click the Clickity Clicker. I know, it must be obvious what I do. And even if you're not too swift, I'll say it to you. I click. That's all I appear to do. Click. Click. Click. I am about two inches long with a giant, yellow button covering the majority of my face. I guess it is sort of like what you would call a nose. I cannot see due to the fact that I have no eyes. But, I do have a mouth right underneath the button. However, what you don't know is that I'm actually a device from the future. I come from the year 2,732 and my exact purpose is yet a mystery to me. However, sometimes, when I'm clicked, I hear little screams from all around me. I feel like the reason I was invented was to create some sort of terror. Maybe the year I came from is in some sort of war, and every time I am clicked a town explodes; maybe even a whole city! A whole country! What have I started?!