Infected

I

They told me that I'd be getting married.

They told me that I'd be wearing a princess dress.

They told me I'd marry for love.

They told me that I would be happy.

Not running for my life.

Not trying to escape a virus.

Not trapped in a church for however long.

But life had different ideas.

Omnicent

Anya was a normal girl. Well normal-ish. Truth was she was a peculiar girl. But nobody wanted to admit it. For she was intimidating as well. She always had a scowl carved into her deep brown skin. Her full, plump lips downturned, as if she were screaming her passionate disdain for the human race without uttering a single phrase .

She sure had the attitude covered. In more ways than one some would say. She never understood why, but it was abundantly clear why to others. Could it be that her mother was emotionally unavailable her entire childhood? Maybe it was because her brothers were abusive to her, and only her. Maybe it's because her father was a victim playing asshole.

Or maybe it was because she was born that way.

Her mother had always told her she came out scowling. Even the doctor vouched for it. Even in school she would keep a frown on. Her intimidating aura rolling off her in waves. Only she knew how clear the glass house was. The pain became anger, which then came content. She was numb. But she was always silent in her endless suffering. And that's how it's been for as long as she can remember.

People calling her rude.

People calling her mean.

When they were blindly criticizing her. That was until they needed her.

And mindless people made her scowl deepen, thus restarting the bottomless cycle of despair and turmoil that grips her brain at night.