Page 2 of Rescuing Brinley

Brinley stood up and quietly walked back to her room, her thirst forgotten. Her mommy’s words echoing in her head.

Ugly. Plucked chicken. A disappointment.

Mommy was embarrassed to be seen with her.

She’d had no idea there was so much wrong with her until now. Had no idea how ugly she was.

Brinley picked up the teddy bear she slept with every night and held it tightly to her chest as she curled into a small ball on her bed. She didn’t cry though, simply stared into space as everything she’d heard played over and over in her head.

Some of the things her mommy had said and done in the past made more sense now. How she always told her to put the hood up on her jacket when they went outside. When she told Brinley to keep her head down and not look people in the face. How she gushed over some of her friends’ children, going on and on about how pretty they were—but she’d never told Brinley that.

Ugly…

Embarrassment…

She had no idea how long she’d been asleep when Brinley suddenly woke with a gasp.

Her dream had seemed so real. She was standing on a platform surrounded by kids and adults. They were all pointing at her and laughing. Making fun of her hair, her spots, her ears that stuck out, her big nose, saying she had weird alien eyes…too big for her face.

And in the back of the crowd was Mommy, holding a child, paying no attention to Brinley but completely focused on the beautiful baby girl in her arms.

The tears came then. Silent and steady. They slipped down her little cheeks as if a faucet had been turned on.

If her mommy thought she was ugly, it must be true.

Fifth Grade

Brinley did her best to ignore the whispers and stares from the group of girls on the playground. She’d dealt with them all her life and was mostly immune to their mean comments and how they did their best to make her feel like an outcast.

Because truthfully, she was an outcast. She didn’t have any friends. It never bothered her much in the past, because Callista had always been her friend.

Her little sister was exactly what their mom had hoped for.

Pretty, even as a tiny little baby. She had auburn hair, not bright red like Brinley’s. It was straight, not curly and frizzy. She had freckles, but they were few and subtle, not all over her face and body like Brinley’s were. And all the doctors said she was going to be tall. Even as a first grader, she was outpacing her peers on all the height charts.

But the best thing about Callista was how much she looked up to and loved her big sister. She was sweet and happy, and she loved spending time with Brinley when they got home from school. Or, she had…

Things were slowly changing.

Their mom had begun to enter Callista into beauty pageants for little girls. Brinley was also forced to tag along, if only to carry bags and act as her sister’s helper. Callista had won her first competition. And the second.

It was rare these days when she didn’t win the competitions she entered. She was so pretty and confident, and she loved being onstage, being the center of attention, which was the complete opposite of Brinley.

The nightmare she’d had when she was younger continued to plague her. It was always the same thing, she was standing on a stage being laughed at and everyone pointing out all the things that made her so ugly. Her mom always stood in the back of the room, ignoring the way her daughter was being made fun of, paying attention to Callista instead.

Brinley avoided being in the spotlight whenever and however she could. She had no problem fading into the background. She didn’t fight back when people called her names or made fun of her hair, or freckles, or anything else they could find to pick on her about. Her only refuge had been inside her home, playing with her little sister.

Except now that Callista had started school, and because of the attention she got from the pageants, the little girl who used to adore her big sister was transforming right before her eyes. She was more interested in pageant clothes, in hairstyles, even all the makeup she got to wear. At six years old, the girl was quickly becoming aware of how pretty she was—and how not pretty her older sister was.

Just that morning, Callista had told Brinley she didn’t want to sit with her on the bus.

All the times their mom had casually mentioned how weird Brinley looked, how she’d never be pretty like her sister, likely never get any attention from boys, had finally begun to make a difference in how Callista treated her. How she saw her big sister.

She was beginning to want to distance herself from Brinley, especially at school.

It hurt.

A lot.