Walking through such a desolate part of my school with my feet making inaudible steps made my mind race. For example, I can never understand how beautiful and fulfilling the world seems to be. From the flourishing greenery that stretches miles or how the river flows like silk. It's amazing how they can flaunt their looks and just be free. Someday, I want to look at least like the smooth pebble no one takes to mind, but I am the dirt being stepped on. I am the creation that stays on the dark side of the moon and will never glow. I am a nobody. A nobody whose days start with the horrid stares and gossips and ends with my head held low. No more faith or self-importance in myself, I lost it all. My deformity, the gap that goes through the left side of my face is a part of me that I nor society accepts. I want to believe that I could hide myself in various cosmetics or even get surgery, but don't have the skill nor money. My tattered life revolves around the best I can do for my mom, who works twenty-four hours a day at a job she hates just to support us, and to make our lives feel complete when my father walked out the door and locked it. The best I can do...is smile. Smile one that is broken but contains a deeper meaning from within.
  I wonder how life-the supposed happy, carefree life- can turn into a shroud of darkness and strip you away from your only light. It feels so painful, isolated, and sometimes you want to give in to the despair. That deep dark path that lures you in, but you can never go back. Death is just that easy. So fast and quick that you won't have to bear that emotional burden. I thought about it in and out. My mind is one push away from the the edge of my sanity. My feelings slowly locking itself to the brink of nonexistence. If I was to give it all up, I wouldn't have any qualms about my decision other than leaving my mother. She was the thin crimson line that is left tying me to this world.
I continue to slowly walk throughout the hall. The buzzing light is coming from the fluorescent bulbs planted above. At this point, I don't care how late I would get to class because I just wanted to stop all the eerie stares I feel drilling in my back. Some voices start to echo throughout the hallway. Slowly growing louder as I round the corner. They were three girls who don't seem to notice anything of my ghostly presence. I knew they didn't appreciate themselves when I over hear how fat a girl thinks she looks when she looks obviously thin. Then another speaks of herself as a frizzy haired monstrosity when her sleek wavy locks flow elegantly against her back. The last girl mentions her ugly accent when her words can deliver your ears a step closer to heaven. To what extents must be met before you consider yourself beautiful? Then again, everyone may see themselves unfortunate in certain aspects. I steal a quick glance of my vague reflection from the window of a vacant classroom. I started to consider that even I might be a victim of low confidence too. The thought leaves quickly from my head.
The presence of another person was drawing near. The small pitter-patter steps tailing my direction which I concluded would eventually pass me by. As every step was taken,  the time seemed to expand. After much thought, I finally turned around. An average boy appeared as bright as the sun. He smiled in my direction, but I couldn't tell if it was for me.
         My pace begins to quicken as he follows closely behind. His image registers in my head as I begin to realize that he was he same boy from my history class. His big hands tapped my shoulder by surprise. I pull away from shock and eye him. "Sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you." he spoke sincerely. His hazel eyes are soft and his face was one of peace instead of judgement. I turned around to keep walking aimlessly away from him.
"Wait! I wanted to talk to you. Are you going to class?" He questioned worriedly. I stopped in my tracks and faced him.
  "I'm not ." I replied.
"Why?"
I sighed. "You wouldn't understand." My words came out a bit coldly.
"At least give me a chance to hear you out." He spoke.
"I don't want to be seen." I put simply.
It was the next thing he said that hit me strongly. "But you are beautiful." 
I thought he was joking and like the words of many others before him, it was supposed to hurt me. Then I noticed he was serious. In his eyes, I read he meant the truth. Tiny tears formed then dripped constantly and wouldn't stop. I never realized how elated I could feel from hearing those four words. All the negativity I plunged myself in flowed out with my uncertainty. Suddenly, everything seemed brighter. My world flipped over and I couldn't be happier. I thought about spring and how I could be the flower that bloomed late. I thought about the river and how I could be the shimmering water. I thought about the ocean and how I could be the gentles waves.
Even though the definition of beauty is a combination of trait that is aesthetically pleasing to the senses, he used  that word to describe me. I was filled with a revitalization of my former self. A sense of hope that seemed lost.
"Is something wrong?" the guy asked at my crouching figure crying in the middle of the hall. He sounded concerned.
It's been millenniums, but I finally smiled. "No,"I managed to speak,"I just realized how beautiful the world is."