I clenched my fingers, ignoring the scrapes and cuts and focusuing on my newly painted fingernails. Arn’t they a pretty color? I said to myself. So shiny, and smooth! I love nail polish. I buy it all the time, painting and repainting my nails, sometimes as much as five times a day. See, I don’t like my hands. They are rough, and calloused. They remind me of the work I do, on my farm, with dad. I don’t want to be a farm girl, shoveling poop and herding stinky animals all my life. I don’t want to wear overalls and my dad’s old shirts. I want to wear beautiful dresses and go to parties all day. But I can’t do that now. For now, the only thing that I can do-the only things that can look pretty-the only escape-

Are my fingernails.