Blue Eyes


She walks in the halls with con­fi­dence, mak­ing all the heads in the class whirl, just so that they can get a glimpse of the girl with beau­ti­ful blonde curls.

Blue eyes made from the tide and oceans – only spot­ted down deep. We all thought she un­der­stood how lucky she was. I guess we were wrong. Weren’t we?

Didn’t she know that she was the one who pos­sessed the 21st-cen­tury beauty that ev­ery­one wished for?

She walked into a car, where the air wafted with cig­a­rettes and beer.

At school, she may have been what ev­ery­one wished to be, but at home – she was never a big deal. An only child, hav­ing to deal with the pain on her own. Al­ways feel­ing as though she would for­ever be alone.

Shout­ing, scream­ing – glass would smash to the ground, leav­ing scat­tered bits of re­lief – that she thought were pro­found.

They would say that there was al­ways hope for the fu­ture, and that you could ex­tin­guish the past – but in life, where so­ci­ety seemed to have failed with the most in­flu­en­tial teach­ers that you are forced to look up to and have, where is there any room for hope?

So that night she sat and stared at the walls that were peel­ing, ask­ing for help and hon­esty, that was all. Be­cause as you see, blue eyes’ par­ents weren’t saints, the rent was never paid, and she barely ever ate.

But there’s a sim­ple ex­cuse for that, that so­ci­ety had cre­ated. She never brought a lunch to school be­cause she wanted to main­tain her weight.

But that was what was ex­pected of her.

The fear, that one day some­one may find out that she is not close to per­fect, taunted her. The fear, that one day she may never re­cover from a bruise, eats her from the in­side out.

Be­cause in a stereo­typ­i­cal world the girl is sup­posed to al­ways re­main flaw­less, and that’s all ev­ery­one should know.

So that night as blue eyes took off the makeup she stole from her mom, the in­juries that were from the hands of her par­ents were left un­cov­ered – naked – and bare on her face.

The tears of hurt, be­trayal and con­fu­sion that were fall­ing out of her eyes could move moun­tains and start tsunamis of rage and anger that would only ever be enough to ex­press with words.

And even though there were peo­ple in the world who would help, peo­ple in the world who feel the same pain. How would she find enough hope to speak, when there were bar­ri­ers sur­round­ing her al­ready ig­nited pain?

Be­cause there was never a growth mind­set to start with where she thought that her life could change – blue eyes was fix­ated on know­ing that, the things that you feel on the in­side, will never com­pete with the strength in which peo­ple see you.

All the lines in your life con­nect for a mat­ter, they all have a pur­pose, they are all a weak­ness or a strength in your jour­ney to the end.

So, what do you do when blue eyes sees a girl in the mir­ror who will never be loved, who no one will ever trust, who will never have a chance to be called mommy, who will never kiss the love of her life, who will al­ways have par­ents that will tor­ment her?

What do you do?

That night the girl with beau­ti­ful blonde curls, and blue eyes made from the tide and oceans – only spot­ted down deep – never again showed up at school.

The girl who was as­sumed to have a per­fect life, didn’t.

But no one knew.

Be­cause she was forced to stereo­type her­self into a per­son she wanted ev­ery­one to think she was.

Blue eyes never had a chance to see if her wings re­ally flew. So, her hope and dead dreams went with her to a place of un­known life. Each day our roles in hu­man­ity are re­ar­ranged. We get older, and our mind­sets change.

But in the end what fu­ture did you ex­pect for blue eyes, if the one thing she never be­lieved in, was that in­ner beauty some­times won.

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