Wanna hear a joke? This one’s been going around my school for a while now, and it still hasn’t worn out. Everyone else laughs at the story, I’m sure you will too. It goes something like this:

Once upon a time there was a girl. Brown mousy hair, pale blue eyes--you know the type. The shy girl in the back of the room who needs glasses to see the board. The one who usually gets As on her assignments, and all the teachers like her. Funny how the teachers always like the ugly ones, isn’t it? Maybe it’s pity, maybe it’s because they tend to do better in school… But that’s beside the point. The girl had a small chest, large thighs, and a normal sized butt. She wore a purity ring on her left hand--more a promise to herself than to anyone else-- and she looked at her feet when she walked. Her nose was slightly larger than normal, and her lips on the thin side. Her eyes squinted when she smiled, and braces lined her teeth. She had had the braces for eight years, and she never learned to speak properly, so she lisped. She was skinny, and her chin slightly receded back. Highly self conscious of her laugh, she merely smiled when a funny situation occurred.

All she ever wanted was to fit in. Protected by a heavy shell, she rarely let anybody close to her. Yet everyone who didn’t know her whispered. The whispers danced tauntingly around her, begging for her attention. She knew her fellow classmates laughed when she mispronounced the ‘S’ sound. She saw them advert their gaze in the hallways--and she pretended she didn’t care. When, really, she did.

All she ever wanted was to fit in. To have a real friend--a best friend. She’d never had a best friend. Over the years, she’d befriended a mere handful of people. Even then, they were never that close. She rarely hung out with them, as social situations made her feel awkward. She’d never had a boyfriend, never been kissed… She spent her weekends doing homework, knitting, writing, reading. She sought refuge in the lives of the fictional characters she had grown to love and care for. While everyone else was at a party, or the movies, or a dance, she would sit at home, reading one of her favorite books for the umpteenth time. She pretended she didn’t care when she heard people talking about their adventures on Friday night. When really, she did.

But she wasn’t always like this. Years of depression and suicidal thoughts led her to believe that everyone was against her. Her voice shakes when she speaks to the class because she knows that they’re all making fun of her. She looks at her feet to avoid the scrutinizing and judging stares. She’s never, not once, been told that she’s beautiful. But she hangs on…

Deaths of loved ones shatter her heart. Lost friendships make her want to scream. Lonely nights and haunting nightmares replay constantly in her mind. All the fears, all the stolen promises, all the broken dreams, all the ashes of the yesterdays she longed to forget-- they made her shell stronger, stronger, stronger… And if you look at her neck, observe it, closely, really look at it… You can still make out the marks of the noose in which she tried to take her life.

Well, that’s the joke. Was it funny, did you laugh? Don’t worry, you’re not the only one who finds it hilarious… You’re not the only one who laughed… They all laugh at me.