She was eleven years old, barely developed but she’s taller than most girls her age. She’s not the girly type; she’ll get down and dirty with the boys; that’s why she was teased. She felt ugly and unwanted; it made her cry and it pained her parents to her hurt so badly. They didn’t know how she felt though. She turned thirteen and found a group of friends she could with everything. Although everything seemed okay she didn’t realize that her friend was actually talking about her too. Fifteen years old. Young and carefree. She looks back on her previous years, telling herself she wouldn’t let it bother her. Things come up and the feeling is back again. She closes her eyes and wishes she were dead. Her mother doesn’t it, but of course nobody else does either. Everyday pains her as if she were eleven years old again. She prays to the lord above for forgiveness in hope that he’ll see her through. It’s sad to think that the people who know you the best don’t know you at all. She’s turning sixteen real soon, I just hope she’ll live long enough to see seventeen.