Olivia died that night.
The news shocked everyone; her school, her friends, her family.
Her parents just thought she was tired. The locked bedroom door meant she was still asleep - and they didn't care enough to wake her.
Her friends just thought she was ill, that it was no big deal she didn't turn up for school. They didn't care enough to call her and ask.
The teachers thought she just skipped class, but tons of students did. They didn't care enough to ask her parents.
But the strange boy with dark hair didn't think she was tired, or ill, or skipping class. He thought of her lifeless eyes and small smile, an the way she said "I'm fine" to everyone who asked.
He really did care, and he cried for Olivia.
He cried because she was never fat.
He cried because she was skinny enough.
and pretty enough.
and funny enough.
He cried because she was good enough for everyone, but didn't see it.
so at her funeral, sitting on the back row with the people who never really cared
he cried.
and with every tear he shed he died a little
because she was always good enough
to live.
YOU ARE READING
How To Be Skinny
Short StoryIn which a girl who hides behind baggy sweaters and a fake smile is forced to learn that 'perfection' doesn't come easily, and being skinny isn't always worth the pain. "she cried herself to sleep that night, because deep down she knew that no matte...
