Society Killed the Teenager

I can hear them giggling. I can hear them talking. I can hear them exchange compliments. I can hear them borrowing each others make up supplies.

It was easy to visualize what was behind that blue stall door. 4 high school girls standing around one sink with make up supplies covering the sink. They all had short skirts on,barley up to their thighs, their long tan legs freshly shaved and shiny.

They were fixing their hair. Curling it with their fingertips,something their Mom’s have taught them long ago.

One of them speaks up, and her beautiful voice dances around the bathroom.

“Lexi, why are you so insecure?” She laughed softly, and the girl,Lexi,sighed.

I placed my self on the covered toilet as I heard them.

“Lana! So many girls are beautiful! They have boyfriends. I don’t.” She sighed sadly, and I rolled my dull brown eyes.

“Well, when ever you feel bad about yourself, look at Jane.” The third girl snorted. The others giggled at her sick joke.

My stomach tightened into a knot as their conversation continued.

“Have you seen her legs!? They are so fucking hairy! I don’t think her Mom let’s her shave often. Poor girl.” The third one sighed playfully, and I dug my nails into my knees skin.

They all laughed. The last girl spoke up. “She doesn’t even takes care of her eyebrows. Why can’t she pay to get her eyebrows done instead of using cheap tweezers to pluck her always there uni-brow!?”

I muffled a sob, as tears rolled down my cheeks.

They laughed as they gathered up their make up supplies. The clicking,tapping, and scratching told me so.

The “insecure girl” sighed again. “You guys are the best. Why don’t you go and tell all these things to Jane?” She asked innocently.

“Because we don’t want her to actually go and fix her ugliness.” The third one said and a chorus of “yeah” and “she’s right” filled the room.

“Why not?” The girl asked.

“It’s fun to make fun of ugly people. It's also nice to know that we're pettier than someone else. Jane is ugly, and we're all prettier than her. Isn't that nice to know?” The fourth one said smartly as she pushed the doors of the bathroom open.

One by one every girl in the room exited. I slowly got up and flinched when my foot suddenly went to sleep.

I slowly jumped on both feet and soon the numb feeling went away.

I carefully opened the stall door and dragged my book bag as I walked.

I stood in front of the same mirror the girls were standing in front of and stared at my reflection.

My gaze flitted to the small lip stick that the girls might have dropped on the floor. I picked it up slowly, and went back to staring at my reflection.

An idea slowly seeped it’s way into my head and I decided what I wanted.

Grabbing my book bag, I placed it on the corner of the sink. Rummaging through my books, I found it. My small compact mirror.

I slowly opened it to see the glass had cracked. My reflection was broken and torn.

It’s hard to break something that’s already been broken. I slowly picked up the largest piece of glass and placed the mirror back in my bag.

Holding the glass piece in one hand and the lipstick in the other, I glanced at them and then at the broken girl in the mirror.

Placing the glass on my warm wrist, I tore the skin with the glass. Slowly grinding the piece in, I dragged it up to my elbow. The warm red liquid glided down my elbow and into the sink, staining the white glass.

I slowly,but surely I wrote down what I had always wanted to say. This would be the last thing I would write down and say.

As the blood left my body, My handwriting became quicker and sloppy.

My head started swimming and I fell to the ground on my side, the glass pice crashing to the ground and the lipstick drawing a long line from the mirror and to where I had fallen.

As my blood surrounded me, someone entered and screamed. Her scream was so beautiful.

I can tell what she saw in the mirror.

I gripped my stomach with my hands.

Mt fat,fat stomach.

My name is Jane and society killed the teenager.