Author: Amanda Miller

Stephanie Eberly

Hidden Behind the Mask

On top of a hill, a girl sits beneath a lonely Willow tree. From afar it seems as though her eyes sparkle each time the sun’s rays reach between the branches. She is a beautiful girl with long dark brown hair and dark eyes. Her clothing is that of any teen these days, nothing unusual. But if one were to walk toward her, he wouldn’t hear a sound aside from the rustling of leaves. He’d try calling the girl’s name, but there would be no response. Pushing aside the flexible branches, the person would realize that she is crying- no, not a loud sob, not at all. Rather, a silent, constant sob, one that could only be noticed if a person were to take the time to see it. She is sitting with her knees close to her chest and with her head buried in them. The person would try in vain to get her attention. He would approach her and carefully lift her head. But what he would see would greatly surprise him. As his eyes would meet hers, he would be brought back to a different place and a different time. He would not see the happiness and smiles he would so expect he’d see. No, he’d see pain, struggle, anguish, and frustration. He would realize that her eyes, they do not sparkle in the sun because she is happy. They sparkle because each time the sun comes through, each tear rolling from her eyes catches the rays, sending out a brilliant shine. Her eyes are a window to her soul, to the struggle that she faces every day. But no one comes up that hill. They may think to offer a glance, but upon seeing a normal girl with sparkling eyes, they move on. The world beneath the hill only sees a happy, average teenage girl, and nothing more. That’s why she chose the hill, where there is no sound but the rustling of the Willow as a gentle breeze hits its branches. The sound comforts her. The old Willow, the breeze, and the sun are her only comforts. She is alone in this world of a million faces- alone to sink deeper into her sorrow. Because no one takes the time to walk up the hill.