ooc: I am, at the moment, not sure what age she should be...but my thoughts are that she is either really young and thinks she has problems, or she is between 17 and 21 and actually does have problems...so for right now, just to make thigns a bit more clear until I decide she has a split personality, one seems young and naive, and the other she is older and cannot control anything. You will see more when I write it out though, so here goes!

ic: The shadow of a ghost whisps through her clouded eyes. Something resides there, something lives beneath the innocence. Changes come and go but not often enough. They pass undetected to the untrained eye; marks of physical involvment are shown on those who really care. Things are never as they seem and true perception cannot always be found, it is even called a distant and untrue thing, a myth if you will. So far fetched this theory, no one belives it and no one will heed it.

Weather mattering not to this poor girl, it could be a humid day with few clouds in the sky, but in her real, the wind blows a harsh storm, rain and sleet reigning the sky. Those purple orbs not really perceiving what is happening, but realities stead seeing what makes the life of a five year old so entertaining. Grass of pink and houses of neon blond; the people passing by showing their true monster interior. The hidious things that haunt your dreams, under the stairs and in your closet. Casting spells and chanting Voo Doo. Nothing is right anymore and everything makes sense; the sky reflects the mood in general so it never really changes from a dull grey. Shaded and sunlit areas confering on the different color of the minute, to make sure you can still see the difference. They know that there needs to be atleast one thing you can count on to be stable.

Tugging a strand of green hair in front of her face to hide all the pain and uncertainty, she slides out of the booth in an almost deserted cafe. Closing time is always the hardest, it means she again has to wander the streets looking for a shelter; her home not being an option, the torture there is too much for this fragile being. Plus the 'bad habits' of her family tempt to pull her away from her safe haven. Mothers that sell themselves to their own son just to get a wiff of pot, not being something she wishes to be part of. She just doesn't know that is the reason she left her home a year and a half ago.

Lost in thought she wanders; still not ready to lie down. Street lamp upon fighting street lamp pass her in silence. Not wishing to attract that dreded purpule gaze their way, not wanting to see the hurt that would surely come if they got in her way. Too many of their brothers had been lost in the line of fire that they knew that the only way for them to not be lost is to stick to the shadows.

Yet she still passes everything by, the road asked nicely enough to lead her away and so she felt she had to oblige it. Walking this way and that, turning the small bends in the road, taking nothing in while she leaves it behind.

ooc:Wow, that to me seemed rather demented...but thats what comes from being on the computer at five thirty in the morning, I hope you guys enjoy this one! and I'm out.