Once upon a time, there was a princess. She was beautiful. She had long, straight, bluish white hair. Almost silver. She was taller than most people in her kingdom. Six foot five. Even the tallest man was only a mere five foot five. Her eyes were deep violet, similar to royal purple.
She wasn't like normal princesses. She didn't wear dresses. She wore leather pants, that were skin tight, along with a shirt that's sleeves only went about six inches down her arms. She didn't do her hair up with all of those fancy-pants ribbons or jewels or anything for that matter. She let it lay on her chest, parted at the base of her neck in the back. It went down past her waist, almost halfway to her knees. Her shoes weren't heels, or glass slippers, or even hunting boots like some fairytales. She went in gladiator sandals.
If you can't tell by now, she wasn't too thrilled with being a princess. In reality, she hated it. She didn't want to be proper. She didn't want to be civil. She didn't feel the need to mind her manners. Being a leader was not meant or her. She wasn't shy, but she wasn't [in her eyes] fit to be a leader. She believed that she would run her kingdom into the ground. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't nervous. She just knew it couldn't happen. She wouldn't rule the kingdom, she refused to.
LEAH BOLTMAN SUCKS CHEESEPUFFS. Luv ya gurrrlllll.
