"It is your choice," he said, stepping so close to me that our lips were almost touching. "Either do what I say - or get another job." My heart stood still as I gazed up into his deep, dark, dangerous eyes... In a world where women's only role in life is to sit at home and look pretty, Lilly is determined to fight for her freedom. There's only one problem: a powerful man blocking her way.

"A girl had disappeared into the heart of the woods only for her carcass to be discovered, hanging from strings, soul spilling from an open mouth. Her ribs poked through her shirt, cheekbones through her skin. The flies feasted on the rotten corruption of beauty gone bad." It was the mirrors. And the flies. But mostly the mirrors. This is not my story to tell, but I'm telling it anyway. Not for me. For them.

"sometimes we're all just lost, waiting to be found." With unfriendly memories haunting her from the past, Genevieve tries her best to live her best high school experience as she can. Something that would've come easy to her once turned to be one of the most difficult things ever. Her smiles were slowly disappearing and her heart was slowly breaking. The sound of her own laugh was soon to become a distant memory. As the cracks became more apparent, the more she felt herself fading. Feeling herself going in a downward spiral, Genevieve forces herself to write a series of letters in hopes that in her process of writing, her process of mending will slowly be complete. ___________________________________ **WARNING: This book isn't edited, so there are probably a ton of grammar mistakes, but if you can look past those for the moment, I hope you enjoy the read. :)

TW: self harm, body image, depression "Slipping into their heads, death rises from the crevice in which it had been hidden, soft and silent. It's there, unnoticed, casting shade over thoughts, and sometimes shade turns to darkness. A darkness that seeps into overcast nights filled with clouds, with teenagers standing in brightly lit bathrooms with razors over their bared wrists. " Poetry that can't quite fit in phrases, so they turned into paragraphs. Highest//#125!