Here a girl of 17 sat playing with her nails.
She wore black and was thin and very frail.
Her dark brown locks hid her face as she stared blankly into space.
A happy blonde pranced along singing the words to a happy song.                                                           She flipped her curls into the air and stared at the strange quite girl.

"Emma come-on lets have some fun. I remember how you always loved to run" the girl in pink chirped.
The girl in black turned her head with a jerk. "I liked to run before this hate grew. The kind that burns inside of you. Before these cliques came along, everyone just got along. Nobody wore makeup or watched how you'd dress, or how much you weight with this I digress. I will not go out their and play with people who fake what they do and say. I would rather sit and be alone then play. So go outside and "play" with your friends, they'll be the cause of your death in the end.
The girl in pink snorted " they were right about you" she ran away so quickly she practically flew.

Emma sat today a coffee in hand smiling brightly at the man who was holding the other hand. She straightened the pencil skirt she had worn this day, she was promoted CEO today. She looked down at the paper in-front of her face as the bright smile left her face. A girl named Alice was presumably dead. After her husband had cheated with her best friend. Their were cuts on her body and a letter she wrote. It read "You were right" and Emma thought. I know.


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