The ten year old girl cautiously entered through the large double doors of the school wearing a yellow sundress splattered with tiny blue flowers. She surveyed the new territory with fright in her eyes and sadness in her heart. She was new to the school and town, and at that moment she wanted nothing more than to hide. She wanted her old house, her old town, her friends. She did not want to be the small yellow fish among many strangers in this large fishbowl. The other fifth graders paid no attention to the new fish, caring more about their friends than this yellow ray of individuality. Everyone wore tee shirts and jeans, girls and boys alike. Even though most of her yearned to be a part of them, to blend in with the school of fish, deep down she was happy wearing her dress. The yellowness seeped through the cloth, through her delicate skin, into her body. It raced through her veins and pumped into her heart. It spread like wild fire through her extremities and she felt the warm, yellow glow everywhere. She was beautiful. Standing apart from everyone who was staring at the fish who was in stark contrast to their surroundings. She dared to be different; she dared to not care what others thought. And that was why her physicality didn't matter. She was beautiful because she transcended her surroundings and the other emotional normalities for someone in her position and still radiated pure confidence and unparalleled beauty.