she stares into the mirror- she skips dinner again- she takes single bites from apples as the number of calories zip and spin through her mind as she gazes dully at her stomach. she just wants to be pretty.

It's 1963. It feels like there's all the time in the world, but that's all it is- just a feeling. The clock is ticking, and the sun is setting. It's my mind that is held secret, but my actions that will be known world wide. It's my name that will soak your history books in blood. You can hear what sounds like "truth" from the media, or you can read what is reality right here.