Everyone knew her, or at least, know of her. She was the popular girl, the star, the queen. If you weren't with her - though "with" is probably an incorrect description - you were nothing. Boys wanted her, girls wanted to be her. She had the looks, the smarts, the athletic skills, and the unrivaled ability to make even her worst enemy believe that they were best friends.

But he was the only one who could see what cost she payed to maintain her celebrity image. The way she starved herself and painted her face to look "beautiful". How she took a concoction of pills to stay up late to study or keep her going through a game of basketball, baseball, tennis, too many things. And the way she had learned to derive a sick sense of fulfillment at making another "friend" was probably the thing he felt was the worst of these modern age diseases.

And, as she slowly dug herself deeper and deeper into her own grave, he wept bitter tears in his own. Because, while he had been gifted with the ability to watch her, he could not help her as she traveled along this winding path. He had given up his most prized possession, his darling little girl, so long ago for something that quickly turned out to be false, and now, he couldn't even touch her.

He had left her, let her fall from his hands that so ached to hold her now, and you can't have what you've given up.


Oops, forgot to add this when I uploaded...The characters for this prompt were teen!fem!America and dead!father!England. But, since I don't name names in this one, the characters can be whoever you want to see them as.