In the world of a girl, me, there is always a story waiting between the pages of life.
In every word, in every scene, I catalog and dissect the meaning of everyone and everything. Like some sort of word scientist.
But life isn't always sunshine and rainbows, sometimes it storms, and there is only grey. I quite prefer the rain to the rainbow.
But I am not like everyone else, who gossip about boys and sports whilst putting on a pound of makeup in the morning. I am...different.
And in this world, the difference is frowned upon. So what if I dye my hair odd colors? So what if I'm a girl with hair short like a boys? That doesn't make me anything less. I am more than they could ever imagine.
Just because I sit outside in the rain or eat my lunch alone, headphones injecting lyrics into my skull that only I can understand the meaning of because my brain is my own, not anyone else.
And I don't care that I prefer the company of fake people on screens, just so I can escape my miserable existence in the real world. I don't care that I fight every single day just to make it through and then realize I have to do it all again in the morning.
I don't care. Because I stopped caring a long time ago. I stopped caring when my own brain decided to rob me of everything I held dear and turned everyone against me. I'm just a story in my own head, playing out like a badly written movie. But that's okay. Because I wouldn't mind it if I was just a story among millions. That still means that somewhere, someone is reading it.