There was this one little girl, with just one friend. she was her only friend. She was the bestest friend ever. The little girl loved her friend, but did she love her back?

Her friend was outgoing, extrovert, beautiful, kind,she used to talk to everybody she was perfect-unlike her.

She was happy with her, but she was a background, a blur- even to her only friend. The little girl often wondered, "why doesn't anyone like me " "why don't they talk to me" "am I not lovable enough?" "Am I not beautiful enough?" but she never said any of those out loud because she was afraid. Afraid that she would loose the only friend she had. She wasn’t courageous enough to do that. She didn’t want to loose her.

"Dude your friend dances too well, she deserved to win the competition." I know right. She’s amazing at it. "But how was my performance?" The words died in her throat. She tried harder each time, but the appreciation never came. So she stopped dancing. Nobody asked why. because nobody cared.

"you should audition as a singer" said the teacher. The words clearly said for her friend when they sang a song for her. Together. She believed she was not good at it either, because the teacher didn’t appreciate her. So she stopped singing too.

"How come every single person-be it a boy or a girl likes her so much?" She mistakenly said that out loud. She girl by her side stared at her weirdly and then said "She's beautiful. Isn't she?"

"Yes she is" she answered before thinking twice. But that night, she stared at herself in the mirror for hours. Trying to figure out what was wrong with her face?

"Yes your drawing is also great but your friend draws better" her heart dropped. How could they compare one artist with another? These words never came out. Will they think I'm jealous of my own best friend? I better stay quiet. She didn't draw for the next 3 years.

But what is an artist without their art?

Time passed but the things remained same. Her insecurities deepened further. "Would someone ever notice the beauty behind the quiet?" They never did. Her identity was a mere blur in the background.

Love doesn't have limits they say, but it quiet prooved to be wrong that day, when her only friend refused to believe her and trusted a random girl, she talked to maybe thrice. God's choice or fragile human behavior- call it anything but that day, 10 years of friendship vanished in thin air. What remained was a shattered heart.

Things changed for the better and she gathered all her strength and courage and walked away from all that made her feel unloved.

Years passed by, she moved on made new friends- who were great. She laughed with them and made some great memories.

She thought that art doesn't need appreciation to exist. So she started all over again. But this time it was all different. Everytime she danced, sang or drew, she saw herself from the eyes of the world, not the artist. "It was beautiful" said her soul "but you can't be better than her" screamed her mind.

The world stripped the artist off her art and now, what remains is a soul-less body. Art was no longer a therapy, and when the art feels an obligation to the artist, a piece of their soul is taken away each time they do it. Because now they don't do it for their sanity- they do it to proove themselves.

From the third person's point of view, everything was better. She seemed happier. But a piece of her sanity was lost forever. The 9 year old never left her, she still haunts her, trying to find her lost soul, constantly asking, "will someone ever notice the beauty in the quiet...."