She wore red nail polish, and the look in her eyes was somewhat demonic - unfathomably haunted.
I scrambled to find a corner to cry in.
Her curtains didn't let any light in.
She said she dreamed of a day, much like any other, but her happiness was distorted. If she couldn't find her happiness, she would forge it.
Sucking from the souls of those less fortunate and unimportant. Her own life, she bargained with.
She flaunted it.
She lived like a monster and wanted it.
She wanted lies to fill the pages of
her books.
Her way was to get people hooked - completely shook. She'd tempt you with honey - all things lovely.
But, with a snap of her fingers - she'd make you go hungry. Unloving. A disaster with no happy ever after.
I missed laughter.
I needed a happy ever after.
I needed my freedom and space.
She walked around like she owned the whole place.
Her name was Grace.
How's that for a kick in the face?
