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My name is Sara. Iíve been different all of my life. Not different with any disorders or any means of special behavior. JustÖdifferent. Some say different is good. But I say, being unique is as different as each blade of grass. Every petal on a rose. And every grain of sand on the beach. Different. Nothing more, nothing less.


Iím always open to change. I want to change. Into something. Not necessarily betterÖor worse. Just change. I hate being the same. Every day, every thing. Itís always the same.


Especially where I live. A tiny town in southern California. A half a dozen local diners, a combined hardware store and grocer, a school of only 500 students but kindergarten through twelfth. The biggest store being the gas station with a built in bakery, movie store and yet another diner. You know everyone here. And they all know you. You canít get out of it. Surrounded by hills and grass and cows. A three minute walk can get you in the middle of nowhere, outside the town. Here and there you can find a tiny abanded shack, an old tire thrown to the side of the road after a long ride. But other than that, nothing resides within 20 miles of the quiet town of Middleton.


Sure after the long twisting roads down a steep tree covered mountain for a long 45 minutes, you come across yet another tiny town full of shoppers, locals selling art and more modern-like shops. Unfortunately, few make there, usually tiring quickly into the long journey. The other way, after a pointless 20 minute drive surrounded by cows and hills you come across a bigger town. Yet abanded and empty. A taco bell here, a thrift store there. But other than that, only rows and rows of empty shops full of cobwebs, shattered windows and caved in roofs. The only reason to travel to such a town is the hidden beautiful Clear Lake. ClearÖno. but a lake none the less. Cool and refreshing during the hot summer days and crisp and blue during the warm summer nights. Even during the winter months the small lake is still warm to the touch and pleasant to wade in. The towns only source of fun and entertainment. And my only source of change.


Most teens in their early years canít wait to get out of their town, to see the world and make it big. But unfortunately, as they get older, and their need to leave grows stronger, they realize just how hard that is. For some, impossible. But something about this town is killing me. My parents arenít the best, nor the worst. ManyÖno most, have it worse than me. I shouldnít complain. I have parents who love me, a cousin who lives with me the same. Although Iím not popular at school, I have a lot of friends, I know everybody, I keep up with gossip, I get average grades and Iíve had a couple boyfriends.


But something about this town is killing me. Slowly from the inside out. Everyday I wake up, hoping maybe something will go wrong. A bus on the way to school will get into an accident. A friendís home will catch aflame. A robber will try his luck at the convenience store beside the school. But everyday, nothing happens and I grow weaker. I canít explain exactly why I want something like this to happen. Only a tiny hope for change I guess. A tiny hope for drama. For something different.


One day, I got my wish. One day more drama then I ever could have imagined occurred. And I changed. More then I wanted to.


It was a sunny day. Warmth surrounding me from morning till noon. A slight breeze cooling and refreshing. I woke up to a start wondering as I do daily if something was going to happen. But with half hope and a tired heart I slowly dragged myself from my stiff covers to a hot shower and on with my day I went. It was about 11 that day, and I sat numbly in my fifth block class hoping for the day to end. But knowing in the back of my mind that it would only repeat the next day and the next.


I could say that my life changed over a guy. Two guys in fact. But really that story is so old and used, and its pages have been torn and written over one too many times for my taste. So where should I start?


I could skip the drama, the pain, and the memories and just say my heart broke because I made a mistake. But again, that excuse is too used. I could say I hurt so many people trying to get what I wanted only to realize I didnít want it. And yet again, hits too close to everyone elseís story.


So how do I explain how I got from a peaceful child, who liked the color pink. Wore bright colors, skirts and dresses. Wore heels and talked like a valley-girl. Who gossiped with friends, went to parties where they gave each other manicures. To a teen too old before her time. Who wears black to feel happy. Smiles to turn othersí heads. Laughs like she doesnít care. But slowly as people look away, her face drips her smile becoming only a smeared picture in peopleís minds. Her laughter a recorded sound fading with the days. Her skin so cold and her eyes so dark. Her skin as white as a sheet and her tears never ceasing to leave marks upon her cheeks.


How? No words could ever describe the fear and the pain and the torture I endured over 6 months of twisted loves and lies and hate. No thoughts could ever return to those days without a tear falling from my swollen eyes leaving yet another scar skidding across my cheek. Never again can a pill of any shape, size and color be brought before my eyes without the pain returning. the urge to grab the tiny vial of hope and be forever free.


To say the minimum and remember the least I will speak of basic facts. To forget a memory which never occurred, I found a love I could never forget. I will never forget, to the day they dig my grave my scars will show their face. Reminding all of this love. Never abusive, never forceful, perfect from day one. A sweet face, so innocent and loving. Affectionate and caring. Warm hands holding me close but pushing me away all the more. I ran from this love. My first love. I ran and hid in the chaos of life. Only guilting myself back for his pleasure. His happiness. Again I ran as his tone changed. Scared of what would never be. Hiding for days among the crowds. Bidding his time I followed his voice back to a time of happiness but I pushed away to the next person. Using for a hold. But again I ran with nowhere to go and I ran right back to my old love. But with careful planning he struck me back dragging me in only closer. As he turned to go I cried and died. Promising to be his forever. But he waved goodbye and I knew it was gone.


But as I turned back around I found comfort. Joy and happiness. True happiness and I ran only into his arms. Never away. I pushed forward warming my cooling skin in this sunlight of this new life. But my thoughts returned to the one I ran from. I dreamed of his touch I would never again receive. Knowing in my heart it was for the best. But he pushed and forced, for his plan had gone askew. And months later he got his wish. But another had arrived in his track. He trudged forward with his plan at last he had me where he wanted me. I pushed and pulled but cried my way back in. my tears warmed now but burning. Opposite this time. I chose change. I wanted what I knew was coming but different. Different then what I had. Then what I had originally wanted. Thatís all I cared about. Not my safety, nor the love or the feelings of those around me.


I stepped hard so not to break my fall. Scared I'd lose again. Terrified of what would happen instead. But looking into the mirror, my skin is once again pale, my hands colder than ever, my eyes are swollen shut. By now all is lost, stuck again with my wrong choices. Stuck with what I wanted. Stuck with what I got. Scared now Iíll run again I hold onto what I have so hard. Knowing for sure its gone this time. My past has reversed itself and thereís no getting out. An end? No. never will be. My darkened heart shall keep on beating and my scars will never lighten. Ugly thoughts brighten my days and I give up what I never had.


The only thing left to say, a word of advice to all who can hear my damp whispers. Be careful what you wish for, for you just might not be able to let it go.


------
Angel By Day,
Angel By Nite.



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The following comments are for "Perfectly Horrible"
by angelgrimm





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