roisin rivero {d6} fin

A fever dream.

I'm always smiling because it eases the pain. I'm not thinking of my own pain, rather everyone else's—people trust a lot easier when there's a friendly face on the other side of a conversation. It's called being charming, and being charming is perhaps just one of the most beautiful things a person can be in this world. A smile can go a long way when people are this down ... you just have to make sure that you do not look at a person with eyes of concern, or love, or loyalty.

Am I a devil for that? Perhaps, but I am just as much a goddess too.

Besides, how else do you become the person you really want to be if you can't separate yourself from petty emotions?

The answer? You don't, of course—it would be impossible if I still had my morals in check. Because they would be like chains holding me back from achieving my true potential. Fearlessness is far more liberating than anything, even if people try to criminalise it. Been there, done that, stolen the t-shirt ... I hardly think a peacekeeper would waste their time prosecuting me for stealing the latest fashion imports, not when I myself have committed far worse crimes donning the haute couture I have already stolen.

I've always been a troublemaker. I've always been a good one, too—I know just the right cards to play to keep my cool whilst throwing sticks and stones at someone else's. People say that children grow out of being naughty, perhaps after a smacked ass or two, but there is something that reminds me of home about constantly being on the naughty step. My mother used to put me there, and ever since she died, I've just stayed there.

They never realise it's me. Surely, the girl with the sad, large eyes who lost her mother at a young age could never commit such a crime! She's just a girl, she's not crazy, if anything, she's misunderstood, she's the victim—how tragic of her to be caught up in all this, it's certainly a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time! ... I think that having such an innocent exterior is what makes everything alright, because people fall into the look in my eyes that goes on forever, they feel the warmth of a smile and forget that there could be something, someone awfully cold underneath.

That's their problem, anyway. It's life, right? People make of it what they will and some people take it and keep it as the lump of coal it was given to them as. I have learnt that if a person is ruthless enough, fearless enough, able to look at life and make it their own ... well, that is when life becomes a diamond. And the flair, the shine that comes with that is everything I have always wanted; paying a small price in the form of being conscienceless?

It has no financial value, therefore it isn't really a price to pay at all.

Money rules a lot of things; I hate admitting that I was once poor but as a child, I had next to nothing. I did not like it at all, it made me feel measly and scrawny—there was not nearly enough power to satisfy me. When my mother died, she'd been sitting on every other dead relative's inheritance and naturally it trickled flawlessly into my purse. Fourteen and almost as much money as I had sense ... sure, I could probably buy the flashy clothes I have stolen but there isn't any fun in that.

I like a thrill, something to boast to myself about because I know almost everyone else my age couldn't pull off what I do.

Before she died, my mother would say that one day I'll have to grow up, realise the worth of some things and be a proper adult. But how boring—ugh, there is nothing playful or exciting about having responsibilities. I can barely keep up with homework without having to forge a distant family member's signature informing the teacher of another death in the family that means I was too heartbroken to do an assignment. Follow the delivery of the note to her desk with a deep breath, a pause as my eyes drop to my feet—she's fooled. Everyone is.

I don't think I have a problem when it comes to lying. I just ... take creative licence over the situations I am in. I make the most of them, the best of them—well, the best of them for me at least. If I have to put on a front and play a different role to get what I want, I'm more than happy to do so. It's only temporary anyway and I know where to draw the line between Roisin and all the other identities I could project into a conversation to get someone on my side. Some people call it lying, and I think those some people have never really lived. It's acting, it's drama—it's just taking joy in pain.

Attracting sympathy and then using it against someone is beautiful. Really beautiful, actually. There's a violence to it than is much more delicate than the physical ... I like the physical too, but for different reasons. The violence I know is dainty, it is sweet. I liked it when my mother used to call me sweet, before she died ... it made me feel loved and cared for in a way that seemed like it lasted for an impossible forever.

Huh. 

For a second I almost felt something thinking about her ... but I think I'm okay. It's just period cramps.