I stand in front of the bathroom mirror. I grasp the smooth porcelain sink, the only thing anchoring me. I turn on the water to wash away the pain, watching it go down the drain. It was the fourth time this week. The bad days are coming more often now.
A litany of ways to tell them flood my mind. I look up. I see the flaws. I put on face powder to hide the dark circles under my eyes. They are proof of too many sleepless nights, just one of the side effects. I apply eye shadow to brighten my dull eyes, which have seen so many things I cannot forget. The eyeliner I sweep across my top lid will surely mask the puffiness of my eyelids, swollen from crying. How could I tell them? It would ruin everything. An all-A student, Class President, Varsity Basketball player. No, these kind of people don't get sad. They don't have faults.
I fix the collar on my shirt, and pull down the sleeves all of the way. After smoothing out my black pencil skirt I look in the mirror one last time. The thoughts flood in and I wince. I blink back the tears that seemed to pool when I gazed at my reflection.
"You disgust me."
I turn the knob and open the door. My family awaits me on the other side. Bright eyed, they hurry me to my place for the family photo. Seeing them so happy satisfies me. I've put on a believable show. I'm not going to tell them. Not yet.