She hides in a dark corner, accused, afriad, treated like dirt.

She doesn't know why she isn't like them.

She wants to be, she needs to be.

But how can she? Her ways cannot be changed.

It's not a disease, it can't be cured.

She is forever stuck this way.

Her religion treats her the worst.

If only they could begin to comprehend what she feels.

That every night she looks up at the stars and prays for forgiveness.

Her tears could fill an everlasting ocean of dissapointment and depression.

Her faith in humanity drains everytime an insult rings through her ears.

But she knows it can all end.

Just from a single pull of the trigger.

But what would that accomplish?