Once upon a time, the was this girl. She was short and she was chubby, but somehow she always had a smile on her face. All the kids laughed, and all the adults didn't care, that she had tears dripping on her hair. She suddenly lost her appetite, thee girl who was always hungry, and she began losing weight.
No mother, or father, or brother and sister. No teacher or friend, or adult and minister. No one saw that she was starving herself and that the scars weren't from a cat. That she through up until there was blood. "She's fine!" They said, a laugh in the air. "She already ate," they say with no doubt in their eyes.
That's what she would say, why would she lie? No, not because of her depression or anxiety, or the self harm and fasting. No, that couldn't be the reason. She was fine, really. Just tired.
By six months she was skinny and all bone, people began to laugh again. But why? She thought, she's pretty again! Why are they laughing, she's skinny again. No, they laughed and called her a freak for being anorexic and having scars down to her feet. She cried at night at how unfair they were being, they hate me, she thought.
Words danced in her mind that night. Fat, freak, moron, whale, anorexic, crazy, attention seeking, whore, idiot. The words went on and on as she lay afraid of the dark at night. They were right, she told herself, I am those things.
She got up that night, the moon showing midnight. She grabbed a steak knife, she slashed her wrist, almost to the bone, laid down to die in her pool of tears and blood. Died she did, her family found her. They were surprised to find their dead daughter, no, they told police. She wasn't sad at all.
But, the police said, she lost 121 pounds in six months, she has scars all over her body. How couldn't you know you're daughter was depressed, its all over her body. You killed her, all of you, they said. You're charged with the murder of a small little daughter.
I guess not all stories have a happily ever after.