Life, The Way It Is.

The Dark Star

      It was a bright night. The sky at its best. Stars shined brightly from the glory of the night. A full moon adorned the sky, just adding to the beauty. The leaves whispered among themselves about the night. After all it was a bright night. But on this bright night there was a dark spot. And it was in the brightest place in the city.
       Dressed in the most expensive clothes, by the most experienced designers, she was the star of the event. She shone out among the crowd, but only because of her amazing attire, layers of make-up and the happy, confident but fake countenance. But little did the spectators know that the star they thought to be the brightest was indeed the darkest of them all.
       As her name was called out, she got up, as elegantly as ever, as elegantly as she was taught to; with a smile fixed on her lips. That it was fake, no one could tell. The air buzzed with claps and cheers. The fans rejoiced. The buzz only grew with every step, never faltering. But it couldn't get to her. Even with that smile, she felt numb. All the cheers just jeers to her, mocking her of the path she took to get here. All the claps just slaps to her face, reminding her of the mask she wore.
     She reached the stage and received her award. The crowd cheered yet more loudly. Never had she seen a crowd so lively. Never had she seen the faces so happy. But she felt empty.
     And she wondered whether the crowd, just like her, faked the happiness too? Deep inside, maybe subconsciously, did they despise her? Did they...... know it? Did they know the real Eleanour? Maybe they knew it all, the atrocities, the sins but; just like her; choose to ignore it. Ignore it because she was an example, a beauty, a hope. Something they had faith in, someone they looked up to and they'd rather not have it stained. The only stainless white in their black. And they would have it that way. So they came and they lent love. They put on grins and they believed the lie, knowing that it's a lie. But her belief had vanished, gone like a gust of wind.
      Suddenly it was all too much. The claps, the joy, the masks, was all too much. Suddenly she could see under the happiness, the contempt, the sins; she could see the truth. As she looked down the stage, she could see something in the audience which overtime even they had forgotten to see. And suddenly she was running. Running into the dark (or maybe away). She ran and ran till she she could no more, till she was out of breath. Her muscles were burning and she welcomed the sensation with open arms. She could barely breath and the pain was of a magnitude she had never felt before. But right then any amount of physical pain was better than the emotional pain she felt then. The pain of guilt.....
      It was a bright night, lose strands of hair covered her face, like a veil as she stood there broken, alone at the end of the road. There were no turns left, just the destination, the pain and the guilt. And if she chose to go back then just more guilt.There were no turns left. She was the victim of her own atrocities.

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A/N- Hey guys!! I am so sorry for the late post. And thank you so much for the love and support!! Don't forget to vote and comment!!

P.S. If you guys any suggestions for a better title than please put it in the comments along with any advice you want to give.