She had been cutting little colored squares off the magazine for hours. But still, the collage was not done. The radio played a known song lightly, but she didn't register the lyrics.

*Running away girl but nobody's behind you*

Tiny scraps of glossed paper were scattered all over her desk. In the middle, a large piece of paper with a figure in the middle.

*You've made an enemy out of yourself*

She puts the scissors down and starts collecting the residue left behind, suddenly an idea strikes her head and she grabs the scissors back.

*There is no use in denying, you want to keep running *

Chopping away at her hair, dark lumps fall onto the ground.

*Why bend the rules when you can trespass them? *

Until she feels the uneven ends touch her bare shoulders, and then she bends to pick up the mess.

*Trying to find what girl? Running away again she goes*

Then thinks, well why not, and goes down for some coffee.

*Running away, away, away trying to change the image every day*

Left in the desk, the untouched collage. A picture of herself, but in the image, she is cutting her wrists.

*Running away from the conventional enemy that you've become to yourself*

The song fades out, and dies. The station crackles, and the radio turns itself off.