When I was younger, there was this small little picture that was stuffed in a small drawer in the attic. I used to think it was the best picture in the world. It was a photo of a girl who looked like she could be a super model or something like that. She had long wavy mahogany colored hair, skin so perfect and flawless, and violet colored eyes.
I always thought she had contacts on, but she was just too perfect to wear them. Being a poor abused girl, I probably thought everything was amazing, even if it was absolutely hideous... because I never really had anything. Not a family to give me words of encouragement or even a small hug, no one there for me when I was sad. No friends by my side.
Nothing. Nothing at all. But it was probably better kept that way, for I never knew my life would change into a life of danger that plagued me at every corner. I never knew I would meet the girl in the photo in person, or that I would meet lost spirits. I never knew I would see my true self.
The moon's beautiful tonight, I thought, hugging my knees and gazing up at the full moon. Though full moons come once a month, it felt like they never came. I enjoyed simple things, just looking at them made my heart weak. I pulled out a sketch book and a pencil from my small rugged bag and placed it in my lap.