(Just a short story I wrote! enjoy!)

The cool breeze wafted through the window and brushed the back of my neck; gooseflesh. I pulled my sweater closer to me, as I turned around and crossed my legs, sitting on the same old rickety bed and staring at the same purple chipped walls. It was a dark gloomy day, pouring buckets of rain. I sighed and watched the little droplets turn into curtains in the wind. My home cried out. This place is so boring, but I had so many things that I needed to do, that I don't want to.

There's a hollowness in my chest. A faint reminder of everything that I am not, and everything that I wished to be. I don't feel like a person anymore. Everything I was made to do it was with the littlest of effort. I felt like the tin man. Nothing made me feel. I didn't care.

I stood up to deter my thoughts to something else. It would be nice to stop thinking for once. Everything made me think. My vanity was across the room and now I was in eyeshot. My reflection sucked up every last bit of my soul. An average girl. With pin straight dirty blonde hair and small hazel eyes.

Nonchalantly, I padded over to the mirror and left the comfort of my safety zone. My vanity was filled with the piles of makeup I had covered myself up with for so many years. Some say its art, perhaps so, but for me it was a mask. I dreaded every morning plastering my face, and caking my pores. Hide those bags under your sad sleepless eyes, hide those blemishes, or else. But it didn't make a difference.

I picked up a bottle of perfume Mama got me last Christmas. It was nearly empty. A vanilla scent for a vanilla girl.