Everything but myself.

It wasn't the sound of birds in the tree chirping or the wind that caressed Mary Ann's window that caused her to peel her eyes open slowly, but the blaring of her alarm that's been put on snooze for the 3rd time today. Mary Ann was a plain girl really, her life was uneventful and commonly the same every day. she'd be faced with another day of judgment and criticism. She woke up, brushed her teeth, went to school, and put up with her friends being jerks to her just so she could keep them. She was the type of friend that was kept in the back of the photos, who is never invited to the slumber party and yet still kept around when at school as a little pet. She thought her life was like everyone else's, but there was something she did do that was strange, a little routine she had that stuck with her since she was old enough to realize and recognize the difference between pretty and ugly. Mary Ann stared.

At what you may ask, The sky? Or maybe even the homework she forgot to do that she'd later copy off of her so-called friends later. No, if only she would. Perhaps if she picked something else to look at like the change of season and the beautiful leaves that fell every so slowly and what it had to offer when she walked to school. The short-lasting yet peaceful moments of just her and nature was true peace if only she could stay in the leaves then maybe she wouldn't have to wipe off the salty tears that rolled off her cheeks every single morning and the heart-pulling cry that would follow after. In a way, it felt like a loop. A continuous cycle that has never ended, not even for a day in her life. She was being picked apart detail by detail with nobody to blame but herself. 

could it be it was all in her mind? A torture that only she could end? That she was chipping away at something that couldn't be replaced or bought? Was she destroying herself without knowing? Maybe if she could just shut it all out then perhaps everything would be easy lock It up and throw away the key, she'd put on a bright smile and laugh at her father's corny jokes he made at the dinner table. But it wasn't that easy because she didn't have pretty long blond hair or beautiful blue eyes that shined in the sun. Mary Ann had a look to her pale fragile body that almost compared to glass. A vase maybe, one so light and thin it'd be seen by everybody just for the way it looked. But like a vase, with one wrong movement; a split second was all it took she'd shatter into a million pieces, unable to be the way it was before ever again. A quick glance by her classmates made her seem like a corpse, her hair didn't shine but drooped down flatly, her split ends had stuck out in all different directions and she couldn't change it. The way her eyebags were practically carved into her skull wasn't fixable nor was the deep unnatural color it withheald. She looked at her friends and every day they looked so lovely with their new clothes that brought out their curves and really highlighted their personalities. It most likely meant nothing to them. These types of girls just kinda sparkled, and in the sunlight, they glowed brighter than ever with their caramel skin which made them seem elegant and so pure it was unmatchable, Mary Anns didn't she wasn't even close her hair wasn't like theirs and her body was so horrible to look at, she couldn't, and how could she? Someone so featureless it instantly made her uninteresting to everyone including herself. It was like trying to decorate an ugly room, yes you could distract yourself with small things but the build would never change.

unsurprisingly at the young age of 13, she discovered what bullying was. It took many shapes and forms, whether it be a slam into the locker by a preppy cheerleader or a crumpled paper thrown onto her desk saying how ugly she looked that day. The people not only mocked her but they mocked her clothes, the lint that remained after a wash that she cared so little about but didn't go unnoticed by others. they'd make sure to let her know when there was a hair out of place. Her shoes were too old and so tight that they caused blisters, but she didn't care. She only wanted friends and for one day at recess to not sit alone. She was more than just ugly, she was more than just a loser, she was more than a vase.

As she ran her brittle hands down her hair and around her slim cheeks she realized she could never be different, the mirror was hurtful but never lied. She never would be adored like these girls were. Oh, the look in the boy's eyes when they saw her, filled with disgust, and followed up with a joke that would remain in her mind body and soul for years to come and would ruin every good moment when given the chance. She knew she was not desired, she knew she wasn't pretty she was just a plain Jane. For what it's worth even with the overpriced cakey foundation that covered her uneven skin tone and mascara that masked her face and tried its best to make her more feminine never worked, every time she would look into the mirror she would see that little girl begging and sobbing to be heard, to be noticed, to be loved. But alas, her face would always be permanent and in the back of her mind, she knew. Every day walking back from school, she would always come to the realization everything was perfect, but herself.