The One Who Always Been Different**ONE SHOT**

The One Who Always Been Different**ONE SHOT**

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WpMetadataNoticeDernière publication sam., mai 6, 2017
In a dark corner of a room, a woman in her 20s sat across her bed, her knees are on her chest and her face is covered in tears. Her eyes were puffy and red. Little strands of hair stick out in any direction, her hair is a mess--just like her life. Pain strikes her chest ever since she learned how to think. She never experience true happiness like a normal person. She never get to experience to play outside her house or let the sun kiss her skin. 'Everyday becomes more miserable.' she thought, wiping her tears. In school, she was always alone. She is that one person who stays quiet and sits in a corner. She never talks to anyone except to her dolls or herself. It keeps her entertained. She says that her dolls were nicer to her than the real kids, because they always pick up on her and always mean. "Why do they hate me?" she whispered to herself.
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Normal. The one thing she craved for the most. The one thing that had felt unfamiliar. For most of her life she had spent it locked inside a place filled with pyromaniacs, sociopaths, pathological liar and the like. To her, this was what a normal teenager was, these were the kinds of people she would be told was just like her. But when an opportunity arises to leave, she is granted a chance to actually discover what is truly normal. Yet, everything had felt exactly the same. The question that continued to now linger in her mind is, whether there was something wrong with her, or them.

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