As you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you wished that you could go back to sleep and never wake up. The bags under your blue eyes shone a dark purple, and your blond curls frizzed in every direction. You wanted to stay in your sweatpants and wear your hair in a ponytail, but that would cause people to suspect that something was wrong. Instead, you put on your makeup and pinned back your hair in twists so that only part of it fell down your back. You chose a trendy yellow sundress and a white cardigan from your closet and put them on. You looked adorable, but you felt ugly.
The sunny sky mocked you as you drove to school. Out your window, you saw kids skipping and holding hands on their way to school. They were alive, truly alive, not like you.
In class, you raised your hand and smiled so your teachers wouldn’t notice a difference in your behavior. At lunch you sat in the art room with your friends, twiddling a paperclip between your fingers as they discussed a recent blockbuster. They didn’t notice that you weren’t paying attention. Your quiet demeanor made them forget your were even there. Thoughts and feelings surged through your mind. Would they notice if you left? You didn’t want to be there; you didn’t care about the stupid movie. Still, you sat there; after all, they were your friends, right? You laughed together, discussed boys together, complained about midterms together; but that all seemed unimportant now. You were confused and worried. You needed someone to tell you that everything would be all right, but no one ever did. You started fidgeting your leg and tried to focus on the conversation, but everything felt so mundane. You wanted to scream, but couldn’t say a word. Did they know how much you were hurting? How much pain you felt? They never asked, and you never told them. They wouldn’t understand, and you didn’t want to burden them. You forced yourself to smile and joined in the conversation. You agreed that the new boy in Chemistry was cute and that you couldn’t wait for homecoming. In truth, you didn’t know there was a new boy in your Chemistry class; you didn’t even remember going to Chemistry today.
At home, you sat on your bed waiting for the day to be over, hoping that tomorrow would be better, but when you looked in the mirror the next morning nothing had changed. There they were staring back at you, those lonely, scared, baggy blue eyes. You hated how much they told about you, how someone could look in your eyes and see your pain; at least, if they took the time to look.