Photo gazing

When I look at her, clinging to her dad's hand. The little girl. Her mom must have been still alive then, because she looks between the ages of three and four.


Why did daddy decide to take the photo with her? She wonders.

And who is the other guy with them?

Maybe mom was already late, hence she is not in the photo.



She looks so innocent, untainted and comfortable in her own skin. Not too confident though, just at ease.



What happened to her? What changed?



Maybe its the taunts she got from people who continously convinced her that she was not good enough. Boys at school who were more interested in her friends than her. They would snigger and whisper not-so-discreetly that she was way too skinny.



Maybe it was her friends who refused to share lunch with her. Because her bread (if there was any) would be dry sometimes with no magarine or peanut butter. They would politely refuse while eyeing each other as if this was discussed before.



Slowly she moved into her shell. She became guarded around people. They made her nervous and uncomfortable. She would feel so bare and vulnerable around them.

It was as if they could see that she sometimes went all day without food and thought it was her fault. That at home she was called all kinds of vile names. As if they knew she slept on holed blankets.



And all that made her not worthy of their attention. She wished they could understand that she really wanted to be ignored, just pretend she does not exist.



But people would pay attention to her anyway.They would comment on how ugly she was and some would think she was a boy.



At school she was an expert on the playground.These skills were horned through dodgery of hunger pains. In class she was always on top. And this territorry she guarded with envy. It was the only thing she could hold claim to.

Like Sam this was her crown of glory. Everybody at home paid attention when her results came back. Even if it was for an hour, it was all worth it.

But that did not cure her demons. Slowly into her shell she slipped.



The little girl on the photo, clinging in her father's hand.

At ease and comfortable.

Content and protected.