Evelyn | ✓

03

                     Closing you eyes, you tried to forget how to breath.

                                     How did she do it? You wondered.

                              No matter how much makeup you used, no matter how greatly you styled your hair, no matter how hard you tried to look pretty—she always was better without even trying. She always managed to eclipse them.

                                       Maybe it was because she was confident. You weren't. Maybe it was because she looked so happy. You didn't. Maybe it was because because she was so, so, so, so perfectly angelic and you,

                              Just,

                                                  Couldn't.

                                       Evelyn was everything you weren't and Evelyn had everything you didn't. Her baby blue eyes, a beautiful discrepancy from your dark, coffee ones. And her ash brown, straight hair looked so nice, in comparison to your unruly one. And her pale, fragile skin was ever so beautiful, while your greasy and so very slightly darker one came off as ugly.

                                                  And you wondered and mentally asked God. What had you done wrong? And when nothing came, you decided to believe you had done something really, really bad in your past life, for that was the only logical explanation.

                                              You slapped yourself.

                                                          And it hurt.

                                          But you had become null to the pain.

                                        So you slapped yourself once more, and this time, harder. Desperately trying to feel something again.

                          If only you had realized, Rose,

                                  That,

                          Tears were running down your beautiful face.