I Need a Title...Blah

Somewhere there's a stolen halo

Lara had a cold, calculating gaze, made even worse by the fact that she was staring out of the window at a flower garden in full bloom. People rarely knew what she was thinking about. Even when she spoke her mind, she kept her secrets.

I used to watch her wear it well

My mind jumped to a memory of Lara as she used to be, when she used to be happy.

And everything would shine wherever she would go

I saw her running through the grass between our houses playing some sort of game with the other teens and pre-teens around our age who lived on our street. Lara always got along with everybody, and everybody got along with her, even the adults, which was a big feat for such a small person. Being around her made you want to be a better person, to change the world just for her.

But looking at her now you'd never tell

My mind was snapped back into reality as Lara spoke. "Have you ever noticed how ugly flowers are?" She walked over to a vase of flowers on the table. Grabbing one of the flowers and pulling it out of the vase, Lara ripped it open, continuing to talk, "They fool almost everyone into thinking that they are perfect and wonderful, when, in actuality, they are filled with rot." She showed me the torn flower, which no longer smelled nearly as sweet and was filled with blackish-brown sludge.

Someone ran away with her innocence

It didn't surprise me much anymore when Lara did those sorts of things. She'd been doing them for over a year now, carefully keeping her new ways from her parents. Ever since that one night when, well, she didn't talk about it much. Not even to me, her best friend ever. She didn't eat for days afterward.

A memory she can't get out of her head

Lara went back to her brooding. I didn't have to make that stupid "penny for your thoughts" comment. I knew what she was thinking about. The only thing she ever thinks about. That night when it happened. She had never come close to telling anyone what happened that night. She kept it all locked up in her mind, in a little box. Sure, she always thought about other things, but that memory was almost tangible to her, and it wouldn't leave.

And I can only imagine what she's feeling when she's praying

Kneeling at the edge of her bed

Prompted by some instinct that I didn't know existed within me, I reached out and pulled her to me. And I kissed her.