My only wish for Carly was that she would find herself and be happy, her happiness always counted on external things as did her sadness. There was never any joy from within. Within seemed empty, empty to the point where she might have become like a hard-boiled egg with no yoke or white on the inside, just an empty shell.
Carly would never find that center, that primary point from where she began, always being told that she was not good enough unless she looked a certain way, or wore certain kinds of clothing or donned a particular brand of makeup. The pressure to be perfect was too great and so while sitting on the toilet in the bathroom down the hallway from the old McDonald's at the food court in Pearlridge, she slit her wrists and the insides of her thighs until she bled to death. Carly is the singular reason as to why all the mirrors were removed from that women's bathroom because women would stand in the mirror brushing their hair, only to see Carly's ghost standing behind them with blood covering her hands and dripping down her legs asking the question, "Am I good enough?"
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