Talking to the Moon

Her face looked spotless and the makeup was done perfectly as though it had not been messed up from all the crying almost every night.

Her shoulders pushed back and head held up high as though she wasn't hunched over in a corner with her head between her knees, sobbing, trying to protect herself almost every night.

Her arms swing slightly beside her body as though she doesn't shield her face with them from the blows almost every night.

She strides forward with confidence as though she doesn't walk with a slouch at home, unconsciously every day.
Her hair always without a strand astray as though it isn't pulled almost out of her scalp almost every night.

Her outfits all designer, indicating her wealth.
Her smile indicating a happy life and no hardships.

The eyes of her peers followed her as she walked down the hall. Some with envy, some with admiration but one stood out amongst them.

One with love, respect, and pure elation on seeing her.

He doesn't know the story behind that smile but when directed at him, it's never fake.