Keliah's Tears

The vibrant colors of your new dress swirl around you as you twirl in front of the mirror, a rare smile gracing your face. You feel like a princess, lost in a world of make-believe.

Your aunt Tamika's voice, sharp and cutting, shatters the illusion. "You think you cute," she says, her words like a physical blow. Your mother's laugh follows, smug and dismissive, each sound chipping away at your fragile confidence.

Later, the whispers start at school. Cruel words about your dress, about your knees. Tears sting your eyes, but you bite them back, quickening your pace. There's no point in fighting back; it only makes things worse.

Seeking refuge, you bury your head in your arms at your school desk, finding a few moments of peace before the torment begins again. Your only true comfort comes from your father, his voice a warm balm on your wounded spirit. But even that is short-lived, as the familiar sounds of your parents' fighting erupt, sending you back to your room, back to the silent tears you cry yourself to sleep.