This girl wasn’t particularly beautiful at all. This girl had dark ebony hair, with a sweeping bang covering her almond-shaped eyes. She concealed fair, white skin, which never saw the light of day underneath her denim jacket. She had long piano fingers, and thick-rimmed glasses, which framed her dull, tired eyes.

She liked to hide in her bedroom, and type her hours away on a keyboard. She loved chatting through digital words, when the phrases wouldn’t form on her tongue. She enjoyed being witty with her fingers, while her lips stayed shut. She loved showing her photoshopped picture to those boys in those chatrooms, which she knew they thought was cute, but never beautiful.

This girl knew of the dangers outside of her home and school. She saw boys seducing girls, and boyfriends abusing girlfriends. She would watch young girls’ wanted photos on the six o’clock news, and men stalking girls through chatrooms like hers.

Still, she knew she was safe. After all, those bad men only went after the pretty girls, didn’t they?

She was so sure until one day, when a boy told her she was beautiful.

(Now, her digital words would never be the same.)