The Place Where I Don't Belong by Hailey Park (18, Florida)

To Laurelin, the promise of the dawn held no promise at all. 

She slowly opened her eyes, staring blankly at the golden orb rising up from the horizon. She did not blame the sun for performing its daily task. In a way, she envied the joyful way it radiated light out of its soul, uncaring of who looked, or what they felt. ​

---

The light burned. Her empty eyes held no feeling, hope, or joy. She was there, but she was not. 

How shocked everyone would be to see her now. They had never looked beyond the smile that seemed permanently sewed into her features. She was the Barbie of the school, an object to be envied and emulated. 

The dollhouse she occupied was a fortress: adoring friends formed the flowery wallpaper and the thick solid walls. Her porcelain appearance molded the ornate door, beckoning more inside. Her perfect grades formed the mantlepiece, the china, the tablecloths, letting all around know of her immaculate taste and status. And finally, she entertained as hostess with a grace few could match, captivating her guests. They worshipped her, adored her. 

But to her guests, she was just a doll to be admired. Not a friend, not even a person. Once inside, no one ever dared to venture past the dollhouse walls. 

It was only when the facade dropped that she truly felt alone. She was adored from afar, but none had ever truly seen her. If her porcelain were to shatter, and the house crumble, they would all look away. They would not miss her. They may not even realize that she had left. 

She had to be the smartest, the prettiest, the best, otherwise, what was she? A doll whose plastic had cracked, painted-on makeup smeared, revealing the broken girl within. 

So Laurelin lay there, her body rigid against the bed. She prepared to assemble her face, sew her smile back into place. 

The sun continued to rise, ignoring her empty stare. 

“This is just the place where I don’t belong,” she murmured. “It’ll get better… It should get better...” 

She was still there. The sun was still rising. 

She was still alone. She was still lost. She finally rose to put on her pink dress.

​