She curled up into a little ball.
Her hat laid strewn on the floor, her plume broken. Like her. No longer standing tall. Some girls were just assholes.
Charlie didn't see them coming.
She was just using the bathroom before her performance. She would never be the same.
Her lip was busted, her uniform was slightly torn.
Nobody came to find her. She didn't have any friends. The drumline mainly consisted of boys. She was the only female. The other was out sick and another was unable to attend as well.
Charlie did what she always did when this happened.
She forcibly snapped the plume into place until she could buy another one. She fixed her uniform so the tears weren't visible. She grabbed her drumsticks, hauled herself up, and limped out of the bathroom.
She just let it happen. Because like everyone else, she didn't care.