Looks Are Deceiving
Marmara was one of those people that everyone despises. Everyone knows how challenging the first part of the school year can be for new students. I mean, you have to make new friends and just get used to an unaccustomed environment. Well, it was not like that for Marmara! She had already become popular on the first day and was elected as class representative for she was intelligent and talented. She wrote two books that are published, had good looks, a beautiful voice, eye capturing drawings, and a one of a kind personality, and she was still in the eighth grade! I was sure Miley Cyrus was wrong when she sang that “nobody’s perfect”, for Marmara was the exception.
The new girl and I made friends quickly. She entertained us throughout the long, dull, and often exhausting school days. Everything she did was different. She was special it seemed, in every way. She would sit on the floor in the middle of a lesson when the wooden chair started to hurt her, flicker her hair every three seconds, and always keep a pen and paper besides her. I constantly saw her jotting down things, and she would not notice the teacher’s razor sharp eyes boring into her. None dared to punish her though, because she excelled in almost all the subjects. In English class, she would share her poetry with us, and whenever we had to write essays, the teachers would pick hers as a model. Everyone would stare at her in a most bewildered manner, amazed at the ability of this prodigy. I felt that I myself was worthless compared to Maramara’s flawless beauty and knowledge.
It was not until the middle of the school year that something fishy started to happen. I would sometimes find Marmara red-eyed and teary, her long, lushly brown hair hiding parts of her sorrowful face. As us teenagers live our age, occurrences like this are quiet common, but from perfect Marmara, it seemed abnormal. As classmates would rush to get besides her, trying to provide her with consolations, her...
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