Complicated Like That

Armour

She walked to the tables at school just like how she normally would but today, something about the way she went about doing it was so different. It was like a spark was lit within her, creating an aura that fueled her confidence. She turned around to meet those dark eyes that haunted her thoughts for months on end and that's when he smirked, creating a crude and provocative body movement that amused his group of friends.

"You need Jesus." She simply stated, his sexual assault had not at all fazed her.

"Why?" One of his friends asked.

"Only God can help him." She said.

"Jesus isn't God, he is the son of God" His friend countered.

"Jesus performed miracles, clearly that is what's needed for him to become normal." Her response sent his little group of friends to fits of laughter. Laughter at his expense. He was not pleased.

He cussed her, labeling her a vulgar word which should've degraded her or at the very least hurt her emotions, but today, it was different. She was different. She woke up with a different motive altogether.

"That's your well earned title." She responded. This entertained his lot of friends,  none of them have experienced this side of her before.

Again he cussed at her, a different word that would've had a similar effect on her fragile little heart. She laughed, not those sweet giggles that normal girls give off but a wicked, despisition dripped off her lips kind of laugh.

"Stop describing yourself."

There it was, a sudden recognition of what exactly might have been different about her.

"I expected you to run off and cry like you always do," He spoke in absolute disbelief.

His response did not catch her off guard. She had been dying to tell him what's was on her beautiful mind.

"I had temporarily misplaced my armour but now I found it and it's been upgraded." She remarked.

She wasn't that girl anymore. She was bulletproof now. Commentry about her won't affect her like it used to. She was indeed different. She was weak, at least she thought she was. But through time, she had come to realize that maybe being weak was what was needed to make you emerge stronger in the future and that is exactly what had happened.

It was as if the canvas of her life - that had once been filled with blues, greens, reds and purples that had been journeying across her canvas by her hand to create that beautiful imprint of a masterpiece in her head and dictated her life previously - had a sudden can of black paint spilt all over her masterpiece, turning all her warm and cool colours to indistinguishable shades of grey.

She had learnt to embrace the colour grey, learnt to love it and then suddenly grey became the only colour she used. Not on her canvas but in her notebook. And by using the power of expression, literature and language, she built an armour so strong, it shielded her from all. She knew she was good. She found herself in those indistinguishable shades of grey. She wasn't going back to the way she used to be. This time, she was going to fight right until the very end.

But when the lights grow dark and the curtains close, she walks into her room and slams the door shut, blocking out the world. She looks in the mirror and suddenly those eyes that once held laughter, happiness and love are now dark and dull. Her mask falls away and we see her six year old self again in this cruel world. Innocence robbed and her childhood along with it.

Her face is pale and cold, matching her eyes. Her walls are down, all to rubble. She is the wreck of the greatest ship that was set to sail the seas in exploration to find her dreams and drown in them, to find love and in the process, find herself. Able to stand the gusty waves that desperately wanted dominance over her ship and stormy skies that were filled with determination to block her ray of sunshine and send her back crying.

Now she is the Titanic, a colossal wreck sinking in her own depression.

She really is a broken girl. One so shattered that no one would even attempt to fix her, and those who were crazy enough, hurt themselves trying. He really ruined her. No, he didn't just ruin her, he destroyed her. He filled her mind with thoughts of love just to show her hatred and pain. Oh, so much pain.

She really is a broken girl, but what I meant to say is - That broken girl is me.