Translucent tears ran down Bra's cheeks. Crimson blood spotted the pristine white carpet. More fell with each swipe of the blade. Everyone thought she was this calm, collected person, with no worries anywhere, life was great for her. If only they could see her now. Bra let out a bitter laugh. Sweet little Bra.
Bra with the cheerleader good looks.
Bra who had more money than anyone could possibly spend.
Bra, who had enough friends to fill a warehouse and then some.
Life was perfect for Bra. If you took away the fact that her parents were never there for her. And when they were, her father was always on at her to get better grades while her mother drove her to bulimia with her incessant critique of Bra's weight.
Bra had no real friends, they just wanted her for her money. She knew the things they said behind her back. Jealous. They were jealous. That had to be it. Letting out an anguished cry, Bra threw the knife against the wall and buried her head in her pillows.
