AUTHOR'S CHOICE

Hers.

I remember when, I remember the time, Didn't have to take just to feel alive..

She snorted at the lyric, a time reminisced, indeed. A time she didn't have to take, to feed off someone else's misery? She couldn't remember one, it was almost unfathomable. A lot like the idea of souls. What was a soul, even? She couldn't remember. If you consulted her older brother's suicide note, you'd find all-but subtle hints of how life used to be. You know, back when she was innocent and naive, and everything could be fixed with a bit of icecream.

Of course, those days were long gone. Currently, she spent her days doing all she'd learned to do. Drown it out. See, no one cared how you coped, as long as you showed up the next day ready to preform what they expected of you, bright eyed and bushy-tailed. Still, that wasn't even an issue, as long as you could fake the smile. That's all they wanted. See, people, they don't care, they never have, and they never will. You just fake your happiness to avoid awkward confrontations and straightjackets. Don't cut, smoke. Don't cry, or crumble- have sex. Don't drink, run. You'll get thinner, but no one will care enough to ask why. And if, for some miscellaneous reason, they decide to indulge themselves in your endeavors, you simply tell them you're into fitness. Your friends training for a marathon, you've suddenly lost all interest in fast food. It doesn't matter, they don't care.

She supposed it was just easier to get with the program. Follow suit. Be a robot, like the rest of 'em, or spend your days running. Naturally, she ran.

Her thoughts were ripped out from under her, leaving her heart racing, eyes following the flame up the stick. She didn't hesitate to wretch the jacket from Sam's arms, stuffing her lighter into the pockets before shimmering into it's warmth. It was then she caught it. Just a guy, the typical scenario of someone just passing through. Of course, she wasn't anything if not perceptive. And that's when it hit her. She knew of no one else who held their jacket like that. Images of black leather and endless smoke flashed through her mind- a constant battle between hope and heartbreak. There was laughter, but the memory was quickly overpowered. He was the first of many scenarios to change her forever. And she found, the more she remembered, the harder it was to look away. He seemed frozen, his internal debate on whether or not to acknowledge her did not go unnoticed. But she didn't speak, it seemed she'd forgotten how.

It wasn't until those familiar blue eyes latched onto hers that she found herself breathless. And everything. All the hatred, the anger, the unresolved issues- her resentment towards him and all men everywhere deflated, caving in on itself till she was left with nothing but the purity of the love she once felt. It wasn't until he looked away and took a step towards an alternative door that reality came crashing around her, leaving her with nothing but a raw, painful remembrance of why she could never allow those feelings to surface.

This wasn't a fairytale, it was reality. And in reality, things never worked out. Especially the kind of happy endings you craved.