Blustering winds whipped at my billowing mousy hair. The only time that i have space to think. Booted feet paced a long the shore line. Wondering. Yellow macintosh pulled around me suffering the worst of the vicious wind. Wondering. Lies of my life encircled my brain. Truth was under lock and key and lies given plainly for free.
It made me wonder, wonder if life was all it ever seems. If friends were honest and kind or whether superstars were even an inch real. Whether what people say when they're angry is really just when the truth comes out or just a biological reaction. Whether when I ask the mirror how I look, does it just stubbornly lies to my face?
What do I believe?
Standing on that beach in that windswept morning I wondered. Life is riddled with lies and fakery and untruthfulness. It would be a lifetime before I could figure out the real truth. This is the story. The whole truthful story...
It was a moody, autumunal day. I was only young but it was strongly vivid in my mind. Rain steadily pounded the windows and roofs and neatly trimmed front gardens of that small desolate street. All life seemed to be sleeping peacefully, almost eerily. Dreams were innocent and well organised as were the busy-body people of that street. The only life visible was an unmoving silloettte shadowed in a large centrally arching window. Long brown hair rippled down to my darkly clothed hips.Statue-like, i sat on a plush window seat. I wore a long flowing dress of a mornful black. Tears were unstoppably pouring down my cheeks, blurring my vison. Pain ripped at my chest, tearing my life to shreds and stamping down hard upon the crumbled fragments. Why? Why so much pain and grief? Why would some devilish villain rip this innocent girls life to smithereens? Why...?
That was the end to my paradise.
I had grown up in what i guess would be most girls dream. We lived in a friendly welcomiing neighbourhood in a spacious mordern mansion. Yes, i had it all. The dazzling sparkly pink dresses,the huge double bed with mountians of pillows, the shakespearean balcony that you only ever see in films and of course the walk in wardrobe that is in every childs dreams. I had it all.
At the age of eight tragedy struck me and my familly.
My mother was killed in a car crash.
My mother was dead.
Nothing could bring her back.
EVER.
