She wakes. She yawns. She breathes in the new day. She opens her eyes, to find there has been no miraculous change overnight. And oh how she needs a change. Her existence depends on it.

So she cuts her hair, and dyes it red, or black, or any colour that isn't completely hers. In the glimmering hope that she will morph into something shiny and new.

She paints her face, and adorns new clothes. In an ever diminishing belief that she can become something different... Something better. Better at least, than this pale shell of a girl she's been fighting for what seems an eternity.

So she puts on her mask, slips into costume, and becomes fictional. A character in the stage-play her life has become. She fades from reality - her existence frail, and weak. In a desperate plea with the universe.

She lives, her arms outstretched. Searching, reaching. A quest to like - even love - herself, and her life which seems to pass every day into another of loneliness, nothingness, worthlessness. A life filled with pointless going ons. A life in which it takes such effort to breathe the air which fuels existence.

In her quest to find reason. In the chance that she will be able to fly once more into the wild blue of reality without fear, pain and regret. She remains hopeful.

She wakes. She yawns. She breathes in the new day. She opens her eyes. And perhaps... Perhaps one of these days. Things will change.

A nodeshell rescued from its empty existence, and made grammatically correct by bexxta. My first ever nodeshell rescue. Yay!!