— september 04, 1947

dear diary ,
sometimes , as a regular being , i complain about my looks . even laila , my best friend , got ever so annoyed with me today and asked ;
" well , then , cecelia , what do you wish you looked like ? "
so , i quietly created my dream avatar and i'm fully prepared to tell you all about her . . .

— her skin ; she does not have one . her skin is transparent , clear, see - through , all to avoid the racism i see every day . to escape from the plethora of comments spray painted all across my city .

— her hair ; she has long, ravishing , clear locks . again , you cannot see them , to avoid being stereotyped as a dumb blonde or an ordinary brunette .

— her eyes ; she has big , transparent eyes . non - existent eyes . so it is impossible for her to see abuse and neglect ha ppening on every corner of the street .

— her nose ; her nose is tiny , so incredibly small it fails to even be there . without a nose , she will not have to smell smoke , or alcohol , for that matter , the slow death sentence that reminds her of her late aunt .

— her lips ; her lips , unlike most , are not ruby red . they are clear . they do not exist . she will never feel a kiss , never feel a heartbreak ever again .

and i will become this girl ;

as soon as i pull the trigger ;

farewell , diary .

— the invisible

~NOT MINE. this was written by my friend and this was so good i wanted to publish it. annafinnson