*Having the perfect hair, perfect body, perfect grades or perfect friends is expected out of me. I have ok grades, I have loving friends and I guess you would say that I am content with how I look, but it just feels like I’m disappointing everyone. The thoughts I have just kill me inside, what I do feels so pleasing, it helps me think of things I could do better...*
Her thoughts vanished as she hears her mother call up to her, “Anna come enjoy your party!”
Rushing so her mother wouldn’t come up the stairs she shoved the blade back into her box, slapped on some band aids and it went back under her bed, like nothing was wrong.
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