There she stood, they called her a freak crazy and insane. Most people would have corrected them but she had no right to do that. Just because everything they said was what she thought of herself and what she has drew on skin like paper with her everyday companion that was always there threw rough nights filled with overthinking and tears. Whenever she tried to express how she felt it would either never escape the maze in her head or it wouldn't be worded right. She thinks it would be better if they would let her be all alone to deal with everything by herself. But if she was to deal with it alone she would end up covered in blood and liquor on the roof of the big building thats infront of her own house.
