From Invisible to Untouchable

Dead High School Me, Untouchable Now Maya had always been… invisible.

Or at least, that’s what high school made her feel. She wasn’t ugly—just

“different.” Glasses thick enough to hold a bookmark, frizzy hair that refused to cooperate,

and a laugh that echoed too loud in quiet hallways. The popular girls called her names—“four-eyes,”

“shrimp,” “weirdo”—and shoved her into lockers for fun. Boys whispered behind her back,

and even teachers sometimes shrugged instead of stopping it. Every day felt like

walking through a storm with no umbrella. One night, after another hallway

ambush, Maya sat in her room staring at her reflection. Hoodie on,