I was her baby sister’s face. She was so proud of me. She showed me around to everyone, telling everyone I was the best one she’s done yet. She even said I was the reason she was going to study art and become an artist. At least that’s what she said a week ago. Today is garbage day. Her mom is going to throw me out with the banana peels and the used tissues. It was no place for me. I was beautiful and precious. I held memories. I reminded people of the most important person in her life. But I wasn’t good enough. In the beginning I was. Until she showed that girl, her best friend from school. She laughed. How could she laugh? She was showing her one of the most important things in her life. Standing in front of her vulnerable opening up her heart and her thoughts. If that girl had only laughed she might have been able to brush it off. But she told her, “it doesn’t look anything like your sister. You should work on your skills or not draw at all.” Torn she gave a weak smile and said she was probably right. No she was wrong! Other people said I was perfect and just because of one person I was crumbled up in the dustbin. I wanted to cry when she crumbled me up in a ball, tearing me in the process. I was her baby sister’s face. Her best drawing yet.