All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
The Girl With Despair In Her Eyes
They call me the girl with despair in her eyes. The girl without a heart. The girl with scars on her arms. The girl who will never be happy. They will never know that the despair in my eyes, the scars on my arms, and the unhappiness was caused by them.
I used to be an optimistic girl with blonde curly hair that framed my blue eyes perfectly. I was always told I was beautiful and kind. If I was ever upset or angry, I had a wave of friends trying to comfort me and tell me everything would be okay. But everything changed when I switched schools. I wanted a new image. I didn’t want to be the girl with the curly blonde hair. I didn’t want to be swarmed with people who didn’t need to know my problems. So I changed. And that was the worst thing I could have ever done to myself. I wish I could go back. Back to my old school. Back to my old self.
Now, a curtain of auburn hair covers my icy eyes that scream for help. To cover them even more, I pile on my makeup. The black eyeliner makes me feel like I have a way to disappear into the background. So no one will ever see me. If they do, I shut the curtain to further sink into the world around me. Sometimes I feel like my mouth is sewn shut. Like I can never stand up for myself. Even after all of the hurtful words, I can’t seem to let out a sound. And if people couldn’t tell how sorrowful I am by that, they could see it in the way I dress. My clothes hide the scars. The emotional and physical scars that cover my skin like a sweater. Sometimes, if I decide to wear a short sleeved shirt, I use my bracelets to hide my self-harm. I usually wear dark clothing. It’s better to blend into the background and never be seen, than to draw attention to the girl who will never be happy. And when I think it couldn’t get any worse, it does. They make up more things to say about me. Then when I get home, I take out my scissors, and everything goes away. At least until tomorrow. At least until they start the dreadful drama and terrible rumors. It would have never happened if they didn’t call me the girl with despair in her eyes.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 4 comments.
well described :) I didn't understand one thing.. why was the girl made an outcast? just because she had a total make-over?
otherwise, this was really good :)
please check out my work too :) thankk you