Feed up. Exhausted. Scared.
She felt it, all the time. What her dad would say if he saw her like this, smocking, drinking, dying on the inside? Her dad, the one who taught her to dream, to believe, to imagine. Nothing much probably.
Probably because he was gone a long ago. He died for her in that night. On that night everything changed.
Her beautiful red curly hair changed in a long, blonde wig, a wig full of secrets and shame. Those dreamful green eyes who could turn the carbon dioxide into oxygen were covered by those emotionless, ice blue contacts. The face who used to be full of funny freckles, those wonderful freckles on her white skin wich made her look like a lovely painting. That face was now hidden by a heavy make-up.
The baggy sweatshirts transformed into thigh crop-tops and her vans switched in killer high-heeled shoes.
But the most damaged thing was her soul, her innocent soul and her wise mind as well. Nobody seemed to notice or to give a damn about it, but it didn't really matter. She decided to change the magic afternoons of autumn filled in with the smell of cinnamon and coffee. These pleasing moment turned into a mess. Staying all night in clubs, getting wasted, drugged.
This life wasn't pleasing, but it was ok. That's what she thought. Until one day. One day, she saw it. It made her question, but it the best way to escape from here. So in the middle of the night, when the world is asleep, drunked in ecstasy, she cut her hair, take her bag and disappeared into the mystery of dark.
