"I heard that she's going over to Benjamin's house today," A girl whispered next to her desk partner from several desks behind me.
"And look at the way she's dressed. She thinks she's going to win that guy looking like that?" The red head next to her added distastefully.
"Benjamin's mom is also one of those rich ladies; I don't think she'll approve of her either."
I clenched my jaw and lividly stared down at the drawing of the face of a business woman in my sketchbook; the business woman was only fragment from my imagination.
Thinking that the stern face expression of the drawing would have resembled the disappointment in his mom's face, I violently ripped the page out.
As the bell rang announcing the end of class, I rolled it up into a ball and threw straight at one of the girls who was talking shit about me.
I didn't need all these bitches to tell me how to act and dress; I didn't need them to define me because I know myself way better than they do, and I know that I am beautiful.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Who Couldn't Speak ✓
Короткий рассказMama told me that I was a beautiful girl when I was little. Mama said that I had the prettiest tan skin, soft wavy black hair, and the most enchanting emerald eyes. She always called me her bundle of joy. Then she got very sad when she told me that...
