She breathed in this world alone and desperate,

Each day was a new fight,

A new battle for existence and respect,

Fingers raised against her while all she wanted was a guiding hand,

Every eye that watched her was filled with pity or disgust,

With no shoulder to pour out to, she felt helpless,

Locked up in her room she saw her reflection,

Her eyes watered yet she did not cry,

She felt the skin of her cheek which was once soft as petals,

Were now black and crusty,

Her eyes kept pouring out yet her soul never wept,

She stood at a junction of her life,

Either she could run or face them all,

Either she could take the pills and end it all or,

She could stand against those prying eyes and confront them,

Two choices both equally tough,

An hour passed then two,

The door did not open,

Everyone thought she must have ended it,

Then the curiosity increased,

The door was broken,

In she stood facing them all because she was not a loser,

Honesty was in her bones and she was ready,

To prove she can fight alone,

To prove she was not at fault and she would not run away,

She stood bolted on her faith,

She was not afraid, she was the hero of her story,

Because she knew it was her story and her fight to win.

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