She woke up from her delicious sleep. Sleep the one place besides her mind where she could find comfort from her life, the life that she hated but couldn’t change it, life where she was never alone. Ha most people hated loneliness and loved to have people around them. She constantly had people around her, but felt both over crowded and lonely. Most people also said beauty was power, but to her it was just suffocation, a torturous suffocation that never ended, but was relentless in its power over her, always reminding her that it was there. She rose from her bed, and moved the silk sheets. Her room was big, and contained gigantic walk-in closet, a vanity, that had all kinds of make-up on it, and a humongous bed. The room itself was a bright pink and orange. All over the walls were pictures of her and her “friends” in every one she showed a bright care free smile that said she ruled the world. Anyone could learn how to present themselves one way on the outside, and be totally different on the inside. But she was a master of this art, on the outside she was a rich, beautiful, and carefree 15 year old, but in reality. She was lonely and depressed. There where only three solaces in her life, her writing, her music, and her riding.

Her writing let her express herself, through her characters and nobody could accuse her of feeling what the characters did. Her music let her pour her emotion into the song, whether it was her voice or her piano, or even her dance. Her riding was the one place where she could trust, she put complete trust in her horse. The rest of the time she was crowded by people, who either wanted her friendship for their own personal gain. Or it was her agent, her fans, or some disgusting guy trying to hit on her. At night she would cry her self to sleep wishing she was some one else any body else.