When There's Nothing to Sing About
I wasn't always like this, you know.
Cold.
Distant.
Emotionless.
Dark.
If you could see the little girl I used to be, you would never believe she would turn into me in a few short years. She wouldn't have believed it. That girl was so sunny. She was shy and removed, but she was happy.
That girl once said that black wasn't a real color. She said that it was darkness and shadows that people used as shields to hide behind. That girl was pretty smart sometimes. I know that's what I use it for. The dark clothes, the heavy make-up, the scowl, that's not who I am. It's just a mask I use to keep people at a distance, so I don't hurt them.
The last person I let get close was my boyfriend. I put him in a coma for almost a month, and found out I was different.
I was never a normal child, but "special" used to mean something good. It used to mean that I was an exceptional student and had the voice of an angel.
What? You didn't know I sang. You're seeing my mask again. I love to sing. I was gonna do it professionally some day. My friends and teachers thought I was good enough, and so did I.
The little girl I've trapped behind the blackness still wants to sing. So do I. But how can I, when there's nothing to sing about?
