Her name was Glenda.

If there was anyone you would look over. If there was anyone you could forget. It would be her. Quiet, mousy Glenda. And she never complained. Never raised her voice. Never called attention to herself.

There once was a girl named Glenda. And people took no notice of her. She was passed over. She blended into the background.

She was ignored over and over: at home, at school—she was overlooked so many times, she began to doubt that people could even see her. Or hear her.

Until one day, she started believing that she didn’t exist.

And she disappeared.

There once was a girl named Glenda.

Now she is no more.