These days the world is a harsh place, too bitter for paper roses && pretty things made of lace && ribbons to survive.1
And she was a broken little girl whose shadows were stronger that her will.2
They bent her into pretzal pieces and left unsightly bruises on her arms that refused to fade away3
She told the world to forget her, that she was much happier alone, and she charmed them with that unforgettable little cherry-smile.4
They saw beauty but she was a pale child that was lost in visions of pock-marked failure. She thought she was a monster and so they refused to look at her.5
6
7
It was just so cliched
Author notes
-Andi
Comments
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I did not connect to this very well. I feel its a little messy in the way it is put together and written.
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it's a good start, I would love to read more of it. So, if you can expand on it, please do so.
Jules
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