Shadow Box of Scars

She's the girl you see every day, always smiling with those sweet dimples and big puppy-dog brown eyes. She's the well-kept girl who seems to have it together on the surface, a display she puts on for good measure. Good grades. Always courteous to others. She's such a good girl, a fine little lady, helpful and amiable. Those fake, toothy smiles come at a cost--a cost she must pay. Imagine living such a secret life that you can't trust a soul, including yourself. Imagine having to hide scars visible to the surface but that run so deep your body cries for you while you hide behind a facade of happiness. Imagine the anger that must build while you bottle up trauma; being abused, molested, abandoned; just imagine. And what if, that's not the worst of it? Those scars--they each have names, faces, reasons--and you hate every one of them. Her name is Anna. Her story--you don't know it yet, but you will.