I scream at the top of my lungs. I’m crouched on the frozen ground, my hands cupped on the back of my neck.
It’s too much. It’s too much.
Tears stream down my face as my body shakes from the storm inside me.I’m stuck in this cardboard box town, living a cookie-cutter life. At least that’s what everybody looking in thinks. They don’t see my uncle slamming me against the wall. They don’t see the silence of a boy stacking blocks in the corner. They don’t see the scars that have made my heart a patchwork quilt of emotions and painful memories.
I come here when I can’t think straight, which is surprisingly often. Everywhere I turn there are eyes. Eyes that are running over my hair, across my face, down my body and all the way to the scuffs on my shoes. Eyes that judge.
“Leave me alone!” I want to scream at them, but it wouldn’t help. Yelling something like that would only inflict more judgment upon myself.
I live in a world where you are beautiful and horrific at the same time.
I am just another face in the void. Another voiceless girl in the sea of news and magazines.
They say that beauty is pain.
If that’s true, then I don’t want to be beautiful.