It Isn't Me

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The mirror held a boy with black hair and crystal blue eyes. He was wearing a white and red shirt with baggy jeans. He had slightly tan skin and seemed normal. He had a blank face and slight bags under his eyes that were barely visible. 

Danny gripped the edge of the sink, his gaze lowering to the sink. His chest felt constricted. He saw his vision blur. Because the person in the mirror wasn't him. It wasn't him. The person in the mirror was fine. Was okay. Tears spilled down his face and into the sink. What the mirror didn't show was cuts on his wrists covered by millions of bracelets of all colors.

What the mirror didn't show was the broken insides of the boy. The shattered feeling he felt everyday. Because people over looked him. Because people ignored him and didn't even ask how he felt. Because they forgot about him.

They forgot about the poor Fenton boy with parents that can't even tell his name or his age. The poor Fenton boy with failing grades and no friends. The poor Fenton boy with a false smile on his face and lies pouring out of his mouth with the only sentence he actually knew. I'm fine.

Because he wasn't. He missed the younger years. When his mind wasn't developed, when it was fine with anything and everything. When he could run around with everyone. Then the cruel feelings hit like a whip. 

He felt that he was just needy and greedy. That he wasn't enough for everyone.

The mirror didn't show him. Because he was not okay. He was falling apart and no one knew because they didn't care.

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