And She Was Called Vulnerable

Everybody has a personal demon... sometimes even several.  She learned that from her school's drama team performance.  What it didn't teach her, was that her demons had been studying her from the moment she came into existence.  They know every weak link, and they have the exact right tools to get the job of breaking her into bits done right.  She never took the time to ponder over how subtly such demons could tip-toe their way into her being. 

One moment she's sitting there looking over the random musings and updates of those close to her, Laughing Out Loud (though only in her head, as most LOLs are) as she pondered over the reason as to why people feel inclined to tag her in pictures of their cute yet randomly unrelated babies.

The next she's about really to give in, a giant tidal wave of tiny waists, even tinier shorts, thighs that don't touch, and bones that stick out in all places possible rushing over her, obliterating all traces of a now extinct concept, called "confidence." 
Why does she subject herself to such torture? 
I can tell you she doesn't enjoy it. 

Her frail body shrivels up into nothing more than a pile of quivering bones, no music telling her story more accurately than the slowly dying sound of her sobs.  She knows that she will never be the girl on the computer screen.  She knows that her flesh must be just madly in love with her bones, because it has managed to wrap itself around those suckers in an embrace so tight that they'll probably never see the light of day again.  That's just how her body works.

But one thing that gets to her is the girl with the broken spirit.  See, that girl will never realize what she has.  That girl has been beaten and thrown down and damaged in ways that no one could understand.  Even though she's always managed to pick herself up, she still goes throughout life with a slight metaphorical limp.  That girl has it much worse than the Vulnerable girl.    The one called Vulnerable couldn't help but hate her.  She hated her because she had so much more and she just couldn't see it.  She hated her because she was good at sweeping her broken pieces under the rug so that no one could ever suspect her.

Funny thing is... she would shatter herself if it mean the one with the broken spirit got to be completely mended.