There once was a girl, a girl devoid of hope for her future. She was called the most beautiful girl in the world, and only a few months after her birth, people were already seeking her out to take photos. 

Her parents wholeheartedly loved this, but not for the girl’s sake. They loved the attention they received from the crowds that lined up to get glimpses of the girl. They loved the money coming from photographers as bribes to let them snap pictures. They loved every second of it.

The girl hated it. By the age of 6, she wanted nothing more than to have a quiet life without flashing camera lights and screams of frenzied crowds. But her parents dragged her along anyway.

Once she was in her teen years, she started to get more of a glimpse of the world she was absent from. Mainly, she just wanted a friend. The closest thing to a friend she had was the crow that came by every morning with a small trinket in exchange for some food. One day, after a particularly bad morning she finally had enough of it. She grabbed her phone and looked up what to use to cause breakouts of acne. Oil was the main one.

While her parents were away handling their jobs, she grabbed a bottle of olive oil and poured some out, enjoying the feel of it on her hands. She smeared it all over her face and didn’t wash it off until she heard a key jingle in the lock.

The next day, she looked in the mirror, expecting to see red blossoms all over her face, but to her surprise, her face was just the same, if not shinier. Her parents both commented on how beautiful she looked that morning, trying again to convince her that she needed to have her picture taken by the bustling crowds.

She ignored them and took a waffle before going back to her room. Her crow friend was already at the window with a shiny pebble in its beak. She smiled and took the pebble, adding it to her collection. She broke a piece off of the waffle and handed it to the crow, who nibbled on it for a moment before flying away.

She grabbed her phone, flopped down onto her bed, and opened her email. Hundreds of emails from the past hour alone sat in her inbox. She didn’t bother to read a single one before deleting them and moving on to the news. 

A girl, not too far from where she lived, had been attacked for looking ugly. The girl, with bright red curls and a bright smile surrounded by freckles, could be seen pictured below. She scowled. If people were obsessed over beauty, did they also get mad at the ones who did not have it? How could anyone even think to be this cruel, especially to someone who was wheelchair-bound?

She put on a big coat before sneaking out the back door, going straight for the other girl’s house. She might have been beautiful, but she was not going to let other people get harassed for their features, especially if they got hurt.