Short Stories + Contest Entries

Who I am

This is a contest entry for short_story_contests

I am a girl...

That fact may be simple and shallow, but holds a meaning that is so much more than you could ever imagine.

I am young...

It shows on my gentle face how young I really am, but my soul is much older than this flesh I bare on my back.

I am gleeful...

As joyous beams spreads across my face, I push all my troubles behind me to enjoy the precious moments I am granted.

I am appealing...

My luscious hair, alluring eyes, and slim body is a grabber to some fellows, as they beg for my attention.

I am perceptive...

Using my mind is natural to me. I never let the fear of failure shut me down, always striving for better.

This is the easy part...

To explain what you are, and all the positives that go with it, but to reveal something to the world that is brutally deep can be fearsome, and menacing.

The ease starts to fade away as more of your immense, dark soul seeps out of your grasp. Not everything you see is the real form of light, but just the flickering of a lamp. Not every smile is true, but rather elastic like a rubber band. Not every thought is pure or clean, the sorrowful doubts all clutter in your mind.

To let go means to show all your scars, and not be afraid, but to cover up is to obscure all your damages. Hiding is less stressful, harmless, and that's the way humans adore to live. Allowing people to enter your dusky, feeble, sentimental edges can be fatal, but reluctant I am no more.

If you want to know me, I must reveal all of me, for there is always two sides for everything...

I am pessimistic....

Silently cursing at all the deplorable actions I place upon myself, my thoughts sometimes aren't my own.

I am heartbroken...

My heart not redeemed from the horror you have caved into me, as you also left me unattended, and frail.

I am hurt...

My horrid past that I can not seem to let go, as it adores to haunt my once breathtaking dreams.

I am self-deprecating...

Nothing is in any way about me, the face reflecting back at me does not seem to matter, and never will.

I am human...

Perfect is not perfect but the imperfections I make is what makes me perfect. A flawless shade of human is to be inferior.

I am aware of my unknown, and I'm understanding of what I can be. To know what I am is one thing, but to embrace it is another. What people don't understand is we all are disfigured, and faulty in our own way. Whether we are needy, selfish, broken or scarred they are what defines who we are, and how we are shaped.

A revelation no more, now you see what it's like to be me, but there is still much truth to uncover in the world that we have not explored. It's like a cycle from one person to another. Truth becoming more clear as the cracks of a fake mask shatter.

The most puzzled mystery is yet to be revealed; What imperfections do you acquire, and all your wonders that you behold?