I look into the mirror, not satisfied with the young woman blankly staring at me. I begin to think, Why? Why am I like this? Why do I see other footsteps while mine are hidden? I have been molded, trained to be like this. Why? Was it all worth it? I have not yet surfaced from this peek, but how will I? Should I even try? Questions fill my mind, discouraging me little by little. The real me is here, I can feel it, but why can it not be set free?
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Hidden
RandomFOR SOME REASON THE STORY STARTS ON THE LAST CHAPTER, SO SCROLL ALL THE WAY UP TO THE BEGINNING. What happens when the real you is hidden? Trapped inside your mind, finding a way to escape. The problem is fear, the fear of letting it free, the fear...
