There's a girl at my school. I saw her without long sleeves for the first time yesterday. I don't like her or anything but I'd seen her around quite a lot and I found it impossible to forget a face, no matter how much I disliked them.
She had cuts up and down both her arms. Some of them were healed, only faint scars. But some were raw and red. Scabbing still. I had wanted to ask her so badly why. I wanted to see if she had a good reason for it. If she had a better reason than I did. I keep thinking about what must've have driven her so far to the edge. I'm not one to talk. I've attempted - but failed - to do it before. But she didn't wimp out at the last second, like I have so many times.
Yet, the thing that surprised me most, was that she had that same smile I was so familiar with, plastered all over her face.
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YOU ARE READING
Faking Smiles
Short StoryI'm depressed. I'm unhappy. I want to die. The only thing stopping me from ending it all is pretending I'm okay until even I think it's true. But you wouldn't know that. Because you never bothered to ask. *Trigger Warning*
