Never say I love you too much.
From her beauty sleep, she wakes up. The morning light passing through the frosted window beside her majestically blends with the low light illumination of her room. Its pink walls, here and there accented with splashes of multiple eye catching colors, greet her eyes as they open.
It is as if it has been written even before she was born that she includes in her daily creed a moment of locking gazes with her reflection every morning, looking only into her own eyes, her perfectly curved and luscious eyes. Then after that she would recognize the beauty of her own, her messy yet gorgeous brown locks, her nose of a 18th century English queen, and her classic full red lips.
Every now and then she would, as if accidentally, remember a glimpse of the past. Her mischievous past and a family she dislikes. It’s always going into her mind whenever she’s not preoccupied and it’s one of the many things she hates the most for as she states it, drives her real mad. She then, with an inner force only she could unleash, dismisses the ridiculous thought and puts it where it originally belongs.
She made it to a point that in her daily creed there must be some sort of morning leisure where she gets to explore and feel the sensation of being free. Being free from what? Only this girl knows. In truth, this activity never did give her freedom but, it does give her a hundred percent satisfaction. Other people would see it differently but this girl enjoys criticism. It is to her belief that a criticized person is the most adored one, because for her, criticisms are thrown by people filled with insecurities.
She walks down the street as if she’s some kind of a modern Marilyn Monroe. Everybody looks at her. Some would stare with eyes of a devil, some with something one would mistake for concern, and some will stare with puzzled faces and abruptly look away when she stares back. How jealous these people are, she would think, of me and everything that I am.
Head up high, she would continue walking but it’s not that she doesn’t see and feel the presence of those passing untruthful judgments. It’s just that they don’t affect her in any way hurtful, she would as she always say: little talks won’t hurt me especially if little minds are to blurt them out.
I can’t tell you what she does some hours after her moment of wandering. I highly doubt you would even want to know it. But if a part of you is really curious, I have none but a statement for you, the curiosity killed the cat. Because not only beauty this girl has, she also carries with her wherever she goes, an aura of mysteriousness, of peculiarity, and a magic no one can ever discover how to execute. This girl, in totality, is just an unfathomable creature.
But if there’s something you do have to know, it’s that when night falls, this girl is the happiest. Something about the night and its complete darkness, especially when the clouds block the hideous light reflected by the moon, completely energizes her. She loves how streets are deserted during the night and how only the sound of the wind and its breeze are the only things she could focus on.
Just some minutes before the clock strikes twelve, she goes to sleep. When she wakes up, the routine goes on. She would walk in the morning in an outfit that would seem overdone by some people, let time pass, wait until night falls and she enjoys it all in isolation.
But in everyone’s life there is a part wherein change occurs, it could be the kind of change that makes one improve or it could be the kind of change that makes one lesser. And in this girl’s situation, it’s the latter. It was when she wakes up inside a white room one day, no pink walls, no splashes of colors, no windows, no anything she’s familiar with. And then her mind goes blank, her face becomes dark with rage, and then she freaks out. She says that the insanely insecure people took her during the night and will confine her in that place until the time comes that she becomes unlovely. That can’t happen, she states, it would drive me crazy.
Then there was darkness, a complete darkness. I like nothingness better than something that I do not want, she says. But it’s as if fate is against her flow, because after some seconds, the light goes on and the walls that had been white before has now become mirrors. She sees her reflection, totally opposite of what she had seen before.
It drives her real mad seeing herself like this, in this horrible situation. That she is no longer the star she was once, that she is no longer young and that she’s no longer the most beautiful. She hates the fact that she’s no longer the one she had learned to love.
Calm down, she hears that voice again, the voice that signifies the reality she’s living in and the past she always wanted to escape from. She hears footsteps running to her as she closes her eyes. But this time, she no longer smiles in the dark.
They came, and they took my world away.Read more "Look At Me"