She had the bluest eyes.

Cold, clear, spotless blue. Sometimes, if I try hard enough, I can remember the rest of her. Long, lean frame, pale, peachy skin, shiny waves of auburn hair. Occasionally, a full image of her will surface, slipping away as fast as it appeared. Sometimes, a full memory - her eyes lighting up as she laughed, her slightly pigeon-footed gait, her eyebrows arching in surprise. She was beautiful in every way, memorable in every way.

Yet it is only her eyes that remain.

She was perfect. Beautiful, smart, kind, popular. Loved by all, envied by all. She was impossible to hate. She was impossible not to love.

Me, I was everything she was not. Awkward, unattractive, dim-witted, unwanted. She treated me all the same, never made fun of me, never sent an unkind word in my direction.

I was the girl who envied her yet could not hate her. I was the girl who wanted so much to be her. I was the girl who spent hours fixated on how perfect she was and how perfect I was not. I was the girl who found her hanging by her belt in the girl's bathroom.

Ten years have passed, and now she is not longer the talk of the town. She is barely mentioned in passing. She is gone, swept away with the wind.

Everyone has forgotten Melanie Suha.

But I have not.

Her blue eyes still haunt me.


A/N: Hello there! Some of you may know me from my ongoing story "The Art of Corruption." Some of you may have just found me because you were browsing FictionPress, saw this story, and decided, "Hey, I'll go check it out." Either way, huge thank you for reading my story. This is a very short story for me (TAOC is over 17K words, and I've barely started it), more of a random mind blurb, really. I wrote it when I went to an anti-bullying assembly the other day and someone mentioned that in a nearby high school they found a girl hanging by her jacket cord in the bathroom a few years ago. So naturally I went into math class and wrote this instead of paying attention. :) Also, for anyone considering suicide: don't. I know that's easier said than done (believe me), but you have no idea how special and important you are. If you're seriously debating it, talk to someone: a teacher, a parent, a friend, heck, even me. Because you are loved.

Dedicated to my cousin Kimberly, who shot herself over a year ago.