No Color Without Pain

Normal Girl

A week, it's been. Kiara recovered from body aches with painkillers, and by making the necessary rest, the scratches were healing. The idea of being trapped the consequence of her impulsiveness drove her crazy. She would do anything to be able to escape a little of the monotony of hanging around the corridors of her house, or lying on a bed. Even wear a structured uniform, and spend hours listening to teachers inquire.

She wore the school plaid skirts, the suit, pantyhose and sneakers. She was fine, she could do that.

Being a normal girl, ⎯ Repeated combing her hair, asked if it was not the time to return the natural color of the strands, which by the way were blond. But she loved the pink color, made her pathetically confident.

I wouldn't give the parents the taste to see the innocent Kiara again. The golden-haired doll. No, no, no!

She took the backpack, and the cell phone on the dumb servant. Always the same time, always the same clothes, always the same expression on the face. Down the stairs, she was plucked from her thoughts by Jane speculating.

"Are you feeling all right, to the point of going to school? " She says politely, even though she doesn't care so much about the welfare of the frivolous young woman.

His mother was further on, coordinating her hands for a set of papers, which stood in the direction of the walls. She had already thought of changing the wallpaper again, by the way she ran her critical eyes to the themes in her hand, saying how time-consuming her decision could be.

" Be a normal girl." the girl ironically tells her as she reaches the end of the stairs. She stagnated, noticing the woman staring at the walls like a lunatic. He didn't wait for the woman to direct his attention to her, and she broke out the door.

"Have a great day, honey. " Answered the woman, like those prepared e-mail dialogues. Still committed to looking deeply into the wall.

"Oh, thank you. Clearly, it will be magnificent. " She opened a fake smile, Jane taught her very well how to be covert.

Derek had decided to enter the school when the young woman was fifteen, the psychiatrists claimed that she was very depressed, and that perhaps at school she developed socially. She didn't have thousands of friends, and she didn't even need that much. Kiara had only one friend, and she was friends with her all her life.

She went through the main gate, and stopped in front of the neighboring house. Gently the breeze ran down the street, the sun reproached to appear, being hidden by the thick clouds. Motionless on the sidewalk, he saw the door of the neighboring house open. A girl with brown hair and tanned skin, smiled walking towards her. Her name was Alyssa Resten, whose father was a very successful chief executive at the corporation.

"Did you lose your car key? " asked Alyssa Resten, her voice disappointed. She pressed the straps of the bag, and then settled down next to the girl. Kiara knows what she wants to do, this girl with brown hair wants to hug her, but the young woman has already told her how much she hates hugs and sentimental gestures, her gray eyes have already cast her many reprimands on this issue.

" Dereck, you're afraid I'm going to commit suicide or something. " She argued, sighing weakly, analyzing without mood means how her neighborhood remains the same, Kiara believed that something would be different, because it feels as if it had stayed for centuries in the hospital.

"Jason also lost his car for drunk driving, but it wasn't my father who took it off; he literally lost his keys. "She announced, as soon as the young lady stopped talking and brought the look to herself. "Luckily our driver is on his way."

Tires sang at the end of the street, the Mercedes Benz g class model. The only ones who drove that car at school were the Wright brothers. They parked behind them, almost climbed onto the sidewalk, the black windows of the car, made it imperceptible to see anyone. Soon the door to Alyssa's house opened again. A young man in uniforms, hooded sweatshirts, and sunglasses came out. He was high, just for the way he walked and his glasses say that. He was indolent stepping on the whiting lawn, leaving traces.

His name was Jason Resten, the owner of irresistible, mysterious beauty. But for Kiara he was only Jason, the troubled neighbor with whom she had shared the toys as a child.

Kiara was not the only one who had changed, Jason became almost as frivolous as she was. He lifted up his glasses, and gave a Machiavellian smile. Kiara was astonished, confused as to why he smiled. She looked at her right side, and saw the girl at the gate of her house, pretending shyness. Virginia anderson. She had a strong temptation for her neighbor, something diabolical arose in Kiara's mind.

"Our driver's here! " Alyssa spoke, with an annoying excitement.

Kiara rolled his eyes watching Jason get into his friends' car, and turned around noting another parked car, this time it was a blond boy with green eyes, waiting for them in a Sedan. She could hardly believe what she saw in front of her. Peter Meyer, Alyssa's ex-boyfriend, had had a tragic break, and saw her cry for hours in the bathroom. She arched an eyebrow at the chestnut questioning her gesturally, but she looked at her nibbling her naïve lip.

" Is he our driver? " asked Kiara, without esteem.

" Yes, Peter volunteered. " Alyssa looking parallel at the ground as she spoke. Kiara had not had any confidence in what her friend said, she knew she was lying.

" You don't have to explain it to me."

Why do people insist so much on a mistake?

"Wes late. " Peter exclaimed, unlocking the doors.

She separated colored pills, sorting them by size in the biology textbook. She was in the bathroom, sitting on the marble counter, looking at his reflection.

I shouldn't have gone to school, I should have stayed home. There's a fine line between anguish and revenge. And at that moment she only thought of some motivation, there were so many, she felt there was a greater purpose for not dying. What kind of human being falls off a balcony and doesn't dismount?

Driven by discouragement, she recalled a phrase "No one lives forever. And if you have more seconds to live, do what you believe to be right" still processed the opposing arguments in your mind.

"There is no fulfillment, no destruction." Says quietly, sticking the pills in his mouth. She needed someone who agreed to fulfill her morbid desires, a person who was submissive to assist in her literally suicidal mission. She knew the right person.