Lyra's black hair is flying behind her as she races through the school campus. Laughing, twirling around like she's a leaf, miraculously avoiding everything in her way, leaving it as it was. Late for class again, she sprints to the Science Building for her next class. I guess she isn't worried about what the teacher thinks. I know she's done this so many times the professor won't care anyways. She gets the highest grades in class anyways, so really no one can complain. As I watch, she runs through the open doors into our classroom and slides into her seat right before the teacher marks her as absent, a cheeky grin on her face.

I wish I could be as confident as her. She's so free, she can do almost whatever she wants. She must be from a pretty good family, one that treats her right. She's so lovable after all, unlike me. I've been told that so many times after all, that's I'm ugly, not worthy to be loved. I'm cold, rude, would probably be a role model like Lyra if I just smiled a bit more. Lyra, Lyra, Lyra. Compared to Lyra so many times. Hurt to the point where I ran away from home, the reason I can't do anything, unlike her, who probably has a loving family. But I don't hold it against her. Because everyone else is right. I'm ugly. I'm the worst. I'm not meant to be loved.

But maybe that'll change some day. Maybe one day someone will love me enough to cherish me, to love me for who I am without wanting me to change. Maybe that someone will defend me from everyone who curses me and hates me.

I have an idea of who I would want that to be. Hint: She has black hair, and was almost late for class today.

Now, if she knew I existed that might help a bit.