Raven. Oh poor, poor Raven.
Don't say that to or around her. She wouldn't want you to think that. She doesn't like being pitied.
Raven had dirty blond, straight hair. It was short, Up to her shoulders. It was choppy and cut unevenly. Nobody knew why. But Raven did. She won't tell anyone anyway.
But the truth about her hair. She cut it herself. About three months ago. Why? You ask? Because she doesn't like it. There doesn't have to be a reason. You don't have to question. Yet you do. Everyone does. Even though all the information your asking will soon be lost. Because there will be nothing anymore. If another asteroid hits Earth. Or worse.
Well this is what she would think. All day, everyday. Along with other thoughts. But those thoughts were more depressing.
Raven would be walking down the hall, along with her freshman peers. Everyday. She learnt it as a cycle. She would walk to first period, then up to four, walk to her locker, drop her stuff off, walk to the loud cafeteria, sit alone, once in a while she would catch a few people whispering then glancing over at her. She would eat barely anything, go back to class, finish the day, and take the bus to her small house, on the other side of town.
She thought she was ugly. But to any other person, she was beautiful. Especially to one person.
That one person was Sebastian.
YOU ARE READING
Being the Quiet One
Short StoryRaven was always quiet. She never spoke up. She never talked. She barely had any friends anyways. Everyone took her for this happy, cheerful girl who always smiled. She did smile in fact. But it wasn't meaningful. Nobody truly knew how she felt. On...
