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A Wierd Story

Lilac blossoms graced the delicate white face. Angelic blonde hair fell in soft tendrils around a perfectly shaped face. Crystal blue eyes rimmed by light eyelashes looked out at the viewer. Perfect primrose pink lips were curled into a slight smile, just below a perfect nose. Green marker defiled one of the rosy cheeks, and a spot of white paint streaked across the glossy plastic neck.

Jenny put the Barbie doll down. Another attack of the detested Katie. Jenny looked at her little sister with unmitigated disgust.

Blueberries in the bowl attracted the hateful girl and melted her hatred away. White out stains and marker blotches melted like plastic in a microwave.

Grass stains on her jeans brought her into reality. Real bluberries. She began the memory. Only a memory.

Four padded walls drew closer and closer together. She shrank away from them. Strait jacket. Chains. She couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Air! Air! A penny for your thoughts. Air! Air! Give me air! Room to breathe.

This was the struggle. The struggle for sanity. But what is sanity? No one is sane. Not really. I'm the only sane person around. The only one who knows reality. Which side of the bars are you on?

Visitors. A chance to breathe. A chance to live. A chance to touch feeling. But there is no escape. Except dying. And that's not an option. Not even escape. Maybe I should just stop.

Life! Give me life! Give me air! Give me. Nothing to give. No one to take it. Give me nothing. Even nothing is something. I don't have nothing.

Lilac blossoms graced the delicate white face. The cycle continues. Only one memory left. Only one memory. Only one. Only one. One.

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