One candle still burned faintly on the altar. The charred wick showed through the centimeter of scalding, white wax. Illuminated at the front of a cherry wood coffin was a large picture of my face. I followed the soft lines of my round face. My black hair curling in beautiful ringlets. Large, brown eyes stared back into me. I had always hated my eyes. The way they were colored was so dark and boring, but now, looking closely, I saw rings of gold and green woven in them. Grief hung heavily in the air from the tears and hurt of my family.

The body in the marron coffin resembled nothing of the breathtaking girl in the picture. She was 87 lbs. Her eye sockets were sunken in along with her cheeks. Thin skin covered her skeletal hands, folded neatly over her hollowed out stomach. I didn’t recognize her anymore. Why am I dead? How did I die? Hovering quietly, I reached out to touch my cheek. A shock flew through my transparent arms and I was thrown back into my memories.

My mother, 17 years younger, held me in her weary arms. Her heart shaped face was flushed and her eyes drooped from her valiant efforts to bring me into the world. My father stood over her shoulder, tears in his brown eyes. “Holly Marie Simmons” She announced proudly.

The audience roared with cheer as my solo ended. My ending note echoed beautifully around the auditorium. It was the day before my 13th birthday and it was magical.

I ran home in tears and locked myself in my room. Their words flooding my mind. “Faggot” “Fat a**” “loser” “ugly” “Fatty” “Big dyke” A razor bit into my arm repeatedly as the insults cut into my heart.

A plate of untouched food sat in front of me. My sunken eyes avoided the sight. “You need to eat, Holly!” I mother yelled. I met her gaze coldly “I’m full.”
“Full of bulls*** maybe!”
I got up and went to my room. My only friend was my razor now.

The cuts got deeper and deeper and everything slowly faded away. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed. My mothers hand rested in mine. White gauze stretched over my bony wrists. So many words tried to escape my lips, but the intubation tube in my throat stopped them. Pain seared my chest, causing my eyes to roll into the back of my head. “Holly!” My mother cried out. The monitor beeped wildly as I faded from consciousness.

My shadowy form hovered over my corpse. Broken hearted wails of my family and friends resignated in my head. “Why!?” I screeched, “It wasn’t supposed to end like this!!” Fury consumed me like a candle on the altar “I don’t want this to be the end!!!!!"

Confusion laced my mind as I opened my eyes to see my ceiling in my room. Soft sheets cradled my body. Rolling out of bed, I placed my feet slowly on the carpet. "Mom!?" I called "Mom!!"
Mother opened my door, her gentle amber eyes widened in fear. "Mom!" Tears stung my nose and I leapt into her arms. "I'm so sorry." I whispered against her neck. "I'm so sorry." She held me close to her and murmured words of comfort "We can fix this. I want help, mom. I don't want to lose you."
"Holly..." My mother couldn't form the words through her own tears. She kissed my forehead.
That moment, I realized that I meant something. I was only one person, but I was loved.