16 years old
They look up to her.
They look up to what they have seen on the outside.
They don’t know that she actually wants to die.
They don’t know what she has to go through at home,
What she feels like.
They only see the beauty of a carefree, strong-willed, happy soul.
They see what she wants them to see.
She covers up her emotions so no one will have to care.
They don’t know that she puts herself down everyday in the most cruel way.
They don’t know that she has cut.
That she wishes she could be anyone but herself.
They see the beauty and that’s it.
They don’t know what goes on in the inside.
If they were able to read her mind, they would be in tears.
They’d fear her, the way she fears herself.
Or maybe they’d see how dead on the inside she is.
They’d see how broken and damaged her soul is.
And maybe just maybe they wouldn’t look up to her anymore.
Maybe they would turn their backs the other way and pretend she doesn’t exist.
Maybe they’ll see the horns that she sees on herself.
And hate her like she has begged them to do in the first place,
to forget her.
To let her suffer on her own, by herself.
The way she wanted it to be at the start.
(These are real letters from real woman who have sent me their stories to share with all of you! They have not been altered, edited, or changed in anyway and if you have a story of your own to share email me at firstname.lastname@example.org)