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As she looks around the cafeteria all she sees is beauty. With her plate empty she gets stares from all around her. The whispers have become chatter. “Why isn’t she eating?” ” what is she anorexic after spending all of her life eating?”. Being in an all girls school is hard, she sees leggings and crop tops everywhere. While she sits there in yoga pants and big shirts to hide the marks on her stomach and size of it. That night she sees that star, the star every teenage girl wants to see. The one the she can wish upon and make her dreams come true. She only has one wish, and that to be like everyone else. A normal girl, not one that has to shop at a certain store and wear certain clothes because normal ones aren’t ‘flattering’ on her.

She wakes up
the next day and continues her morning routine. Walking down the hall at school everything is the same. She moves more swiftly, she doesn’t know why but she wishes her wish is starting to take its affect. Weeks go by and she doesn’t see a difference. It’s funny though, she’s getting the compliments of “have you been working out?” Or “you look like you lost so much weight.” She sees slight differences like she had to buy new shoes because hr feet shrank, but that is really it.

It is now her birthday, she is turning 17 the prime in a young girls life. She puts on her leggings and brand new crop too she ordered herself. She walks over to the mirror with one of the brightest smiles. It has come, she found her old weight diary when she tried those sketchy weight lose places. She has succeeded, She is finally happy with herself. Finally the person she wants to be, as she takes front seat in her friends car. Friends!? Something she thought would never happen to her because she was never the pretty one, just the one that got left behind.

Weeks go by and her hip bones are starting to pop out. Her mom says she needs to stop what she’s doing, but she doesn’t understand, she isn’t doing anything. It’s the wish she can’t just turn it off. Her mother tries to stuff her face as much as she can, but she just can’t gain the weight, or any for that matter, back. She doesn’t understand what everyone’s problem is. She is finally skinny finally beautiful, able to wear anything she wants. When she walks down the street she gets whistles instead of moos.

Even though she has to go shopping for new clothes, she can’t wear crop tops anymore because people complain about seeing her ribs.  She can’t play sports because her coach says she is too fragile, and is afraid of her well being. She has ended up in the hospital, how? She doesn’t know. The whispers and chit chat came back right before she was admitted. They say she’s wasting away.

She spent the rest of ever days in the library, she told all of the nurses she was writing a letter. They didn’t know it was her last one. The letter stated she knew her time was coming. She couldn’t stop the decreasing of her, that it wasn’t her fault she was just skin and bones. She stated that she was finally happy, but being skinny and “perfect” wasn’t all its cracked up to be. She was told all the time that being skinny was the dream, that all her problems will decimate with the decrease of the amount of space she took up. As people were told of her being in the hospital, the rumors started of her being bulimic or anorexic. Because she was too big, but health was a problem, but now shes too skinny and its a disease. You can never win in this world, if you are not pretty or not flattering to look at, you are not worth as much.

For the remainder of her time she spent in her room. Until her ribs stenciled her chest, and her hip bones were the only thing keeping her pants up. She lays under dozens of blankets, because she was never warm enough. when the doctors found her that day, she was practically nothing. her papers strewn along the desk they got her, because the walk to the library was too much. She never got to finish that letter. But she got her point across. Beaty comes from the beholder, if you believe you are beautiful. Then you are beautiful. She regrets never believing it. Her one last wish before passing that day was to wish she could have wished for confidence in herself, instead wishing for something that would not please her but everyone else.