Un liked


“A little higher.”
“Oh no, too much of my nostrils, try again.”
“Nah, too much cheek. Again.”
“Perfect! They’re so going to like this one!”

“Bree! Dinner’s ready!”, called mum.

“Just a minute, ma!”, she called out in reply. She could smell her favourite roast chicken from her room, but that’ll have to wait. Bree quickly hit Share and chose a filter (usually ‘Early bird’, because it lightens up skin tones and gives a nice vignette that helps emphasise the face), and hit Send. Then she waited. The next minute could not pass slower.


“COMING! It’s only been a minute!”

No likes. Better hit Refresh, maybe the notifications are slow…

Still no likes.

With a heavy heart, she tossed her phone onto her bed, bouncing and getting lost among the unmade pile of blankets and pillows. It was not something you’d give a second look, but if you held your gaze a moment longer, you may just notice the wet stains on the pillowcases, the only evidence left by tears shed in secret.

“Nobody likes me. Why don’t they like me? 590 friends and not one likes my post. ” mumbled Bree, “Didn’t I look pretty in that one?”

“Bree! Are you coming? The food is getting cold!”, mum called again.

“Okay ma, I’m coming.” she replied softly, her appetite gone.

As hopes of acceptance diminished again, she said to herself for the umpteenth time, “I guess I’ll never be the same as the other girls”, as she slowly turned around in her wheelchair and headed out of her bedroom.


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