What do they really think?

   What do they really think? A question people do not often ask. A question people do not often think about. But what if we did? What would we see? Take, for instance, the girl dates every guy she meets and sleeps with 90% of them. What is she searching for? Acceptance? Confirmation that she is beautiful, that she is wanted? Could it be that she is trying to fill the void of the absence of her father? Does she feel as if he left because he did not love her, so she screws every man who shows her the least bit of positive attention? No one will ever know.
   Then there is the class clown, the funny man. He makes people laugh, he seems to have it all together. Does anyone wonder why he wants to be the center of attention? Does anyone know that at home he is called worthless, a disappointment, a sad excuse for a man? Does anyone care, as long as they get their entertainment?
   Or how about popular girl that everyone wants to be friends with? She has it all together, good grades, great looks, hottest boyfriend. But is everything as it appears? Why is it that no one ever sees her eat? Does anyone hear her retching in the bathroom after she has eaten a small portion?  Is it strange that she is obsessed with working out? Is it obvious that works so hard to impress her parents who are only focused on their own success? Does anyone bother to notice?
   And what about the boy, you know, the boy that no one really notices, not even his parents? The boy who is so average that when someone mentions his name everyone asks "who is that"? This is the boy who gets bullied and then forgotten. The boy who will one day snap, bring a gun to school, and finally be noticed and remembered by everyone. Will anyone know what he really thinks before its too late?
   And last but not least there is the girl, the quiet shy girl who is no one of consequence. She is nice and polite and when brought up in conversation, everyone calls her "that sweet girl". But no one sees (maybe they choose not to see) the bruises on her shoulders and legs. Does anyone notice the cuts on her arms, sides, and legs? Does anyone know that she comes from a broken home, a home torn apart by drugs, alcohol, and abuse? Can anyone understand the relief she feels when that blade slices though her skin? Can they understand how the pain flows out in the crimson rivers? Will anyone know the reason she cut the wrong way, aiming to feel a more permanent relief? A relief that that can never be undone.
   Does anyone care to know what they really think?