"I didn't know her," I told the police," or, at least, I never spoke to her."
The officer nodded and scribbled in his notepad. "Do you know her name?"
I didn't. I don't think anyone did.
I bumped into her a few times at poetry club. She was sweet; caring, but I had never really bothered to ask her name. Everyone called her "The Girl With Blue Hair".
It was mysterious, in my opinion. I thought she liked the fact that she was known for her blue hair. No other girl had dared to dye their hair; stuck in the mindset that being different is bad. I should probably admit that I was one of them.
"Excuse me, miss?" The police officer woke me up from my trance. I hadn't realised I had been staring into nothing in thought.
"Yes! Sorry; what was the question?"
"Do you know the girl's name?" he repeated.
"No," I shook my head,"No, I do-didn't."
YOU ARE READING
The Girl With Blue Hair
Teen FictionShe was the gentle soul that had no friends. She was different but was never aknowledged. She was screaming, but no one heard her. What drove her to that point? How could she take her own life? What if she... didn't? *** •If you are sensitive to sui...
