Two - Who Is She?

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There were few things Krystal liked to talk about, school was never one of them.
"How was school?" Krystal's mother tailed her around the house.
"Great."
"Make any friends?"
"Loads, I'm the most popular kid in school now!" Sarcasm dripped from every word.

I'm popular but not because people want to know me....

Her mother sighed deeply.
"I wish you would be less sarcastic and more social." Krystal shook her head. Her hair whipping around her.
"Absolutely not. If they can't love me for me, they don't deserve me."
"And how do you know what they feel about you?" Krystal stopped short, almost causing her mother to plow into her. She turned on her heals and they met eyes.
"No one can look past the scar. That's all they ever care about. Once they know, they leave. Why try in the first place? I'm never good enough anyways." Mrs. Kamowski opened her mouth to protest, to give her daughter some type of insight or glimpse of hope, but Krystal turned away. "I'm going to my room. Call me when dinner is done."
"Yes dear." Her mother's shoulders slumped in defeat.

Krystals mom has been working from home for the past 6 years. It was nice when Krystal needed a ride somewhere or someone to talk to. Now she distances herself from everyone, even her parents. The only person she kept close was herself, that's why she wrote so religiously in her diary.

Dear Diary,
I wish my parents would leave me alone. I am never going to be popular. I'm never going to have a lot of friends, or any at all really. I'm not Nancy. I never will be. They say to celebrate differences, but I don't feel celebrated. I feel like a bearded lady at a circus of perfect lions. Maybe at the assembly tomorrow they can put me on a stand and give everyone tomatoes to throw at me. I think they'd still stare though. Sometimes I want to grab the microphone and scream at everyone. Tell them the truth, but I don't want pity. I don't want the be the girl who....
Xoxo
K. Kamowski

Krystal tucked away her diary and laid back on her bed and drown in the sea of pillows. Years ago she used to do this and cry, but the older she got the more her tears dried. Now she was out of tears to shed, she just lays motionless.

🌙  🌙  🌙  🌙  🌙  🌙

Blake sat at the dinner table with his chin in his hand.
"Blake, please no elbows on the table." His mother scolded. She never really yelled at Blake, he was her only boy, her baby.
"Sorry mom." He gave her a sweet, sheepish smile.
"You're such a suck up." Hannah hissed in a low voice.
"Don't you have plans or something?" He snapped. She rolled her eyes.
"Enough!" Their dad thunder as he entered the room with the bowl of mashed potatoes.
"Sorry." The muttered together. Mr. Hardy sighed and sank into his chair.

Can someone remind me why I'm here again? Oh yeah, Ted flaked on me for some chick. She wasn't even that cute! Whatever. I can survive family night.

"Your elbow is on the table again!" Hannah whined.

I think.

Blake scooped some mashed potatoes on his plate.
"Do you always have to eat so much?" Hannah contuined food nag him. Blake rolled his eyes at his sister.

I can make it through the dinner, I can't promise the same for Hannah. She's lucky she's dad's favorite.

The family ate in a dull chatter. Plain topics went around like school, work, nothing of actual substance. That's normally how it was. Mr. Hardy was a police officer for the local bureo and Mrs. Hardy was a meteorologist, she only appeared on tv when the head meteorologist was gone. They made good money, enough to raise three kids and have money to spare. When they kids all turned 16, whether they wanted to or not, Mr. and Mrs. Hardy made them get part time jobs. Blake always chose to work in the summer, in school weekends were far too valuable.

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