She's a girl. A 17-year-old beauty on the brink of freedom. A rebellious child with everything to lose. Just another confused youth who thinks she's special because she liestens to bands whose names have more words than some sentences. She pretends not to care, and most of the time, she gets away with it. But the truth is, no one could care more than she does. She pretends to hate herself more than she really does. She's scared to remember the past, but ever more scared to forget it.

She began to cry. The deep and ugly kind, the kind you lose yourself in, thanking god no one has to see how blotched and rubbed your face becomes. Though some detached part of you also wishes there were someone to see you now. To understand how sad you are, at heart. They don't see it, of course. And you'd never show them.

Maybe I'm scared.

Maybe I'm scared that there kids,

these friends that mean so much now, that they won't matter anymore when I leave this place.

that I'm gonna feel like they're holding me back.

What if I forget?

What if I foget that those are the only people that kept me going?

kept me inspired?

reminded me?

I never want to forget.

What do you do when your best friend is sad.
and this guy who puts her through hell is an asshole. . .

but she's so in love and you can't seem to break it to her.

he's a jerk, and she deserves so much more.

he just doesn't love her,

but she's got his lies on repeat.

this is where you just want to scream.

Everybody just keeps on moving on in this crazy world.

that's all you can do anyways.

you keep smiling, you keep moving, you keep on living.

cause who knows.

you just might be the only thing keeping somebody else from stopping.

you might be somebody's everything, and not even know it.

if you stop moving, what's to keep them from stopping too?