TotallyNotBoston
Her name was Jacqueline Monroe, but everyone called her Jackie for short. I called her young female, which is fine for I am the alpha male. She looked like Marylin Manroe, but definitely less attractive. Her hair was like a flowing, golden river, her skin was as pale as Snow White's, and her face was covered in freckles that looked like tiny grains of sand. Her kind, intelligent but boringly brown colored eyes, sparked with joy every time she saw her sketchbook.
Her petite frame was often laughed at, but I just saw it as beautiful. She would wear oversized T-shirts, covered with paint splatters, and ripped jeans with bad patchwork on it, because she wasn't like the other girls. She wouldn't wear makeup, and her hair was always in a messy bun, because she didn't care about things like that. Unlike other girls she was smart, beautiful and had real, very real feelings. All the others don't have feelings, much less real feelings.
No one noticed her, except for me. I noticed her... because she was different.