Young Writers Society

She wanted the world to stop. Stop and wait for her to catch up. For the world passed by, day by day, with nothing more than stony, meaningless glances from strangers. Those that stared right through her without taking the time to aknowledge the hollow look that lay in her eyes. The lifelessness left behind by all who had hurt her. Left her. Abandoned her lifeless body, leaving her to carry on as a skeleton of what once had glowed and flourished but now wilted in the cold of the winter. The harsh bite of betrayal.

But the girl surrendered at last, slowly allowing herself to open back up to the world, and simply watched as it rushed by. She studied and observed it and wished only that it would do her the same. But still the world did not falter, even to allow her the satisfaction of understanding. Would she ever grasp her place in the world? This great explosion of people and places, joys and regrets, secrets and friends. She felt so small. Sheltered and hidden by the shadow of the world, Burried alive by its darkness. But maybe the solution was not so unexposed. Maybe it was as simple as bringing herself back into the light where she would glow once more. Where flames would dance under the surface of her eyes so brightly that the world would not be able to meet her gaze, Yet she would never look away. Never reveal weakness, and this is how she would stand up to the world! And then, and only then, would the world slow its pace to a stop, and allow a firy eyes stranger to learn its secrets and to pass them down to the new world, so that the shadows would disappear at last.