Take a Risk (wingsonmyheels)

Namia Warren

Someone has to stand out in this crowd,
And it sure isn't going to be you.
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My past was difficult. Adjusting to the sudden changes was hard. It wasn't all about getting served on a silver platter, and living a life where I could get whatever I wanted. I had to behave, as to not ruin my parents reputation. I had to learn when to shut my mouth (a skill I haven't quite completely mastered) so that I wouldn't embarass my family. Things were different, and while being rich came with many advantages, I still felt like I was fighting to survive. Not physically, but mentally. Stuggling not to drown in a world where I must be perfect or I am hated. How does Emma do it? Does she lock all of her feelings up inside, being this smiling, plastic creature like the rest of them? Suddenly, it hits me that I don't want my sister to grow up and become one of them. I want her to a live a life where she is free. If I leave... if I leave, she grows up in glitter and plastic. She becomes as cruel and clever as the rest of them. Emma... sweet, kind, young Emma. I saw her tonight. A flash of them was in her eyes, haunting her very being. She's already part of this world, while I'm still adapting. But I have learned one thing on my long journey to this point.

Trust no one.

It was an easy lesson to learn. Secrets spread like wildfires in the world of glitter and money, so I cannot have any. I must not show any emotion, or rumors will start. I can't have any real friends, because I can't trust anyone. All they want is to climb higher up on the social later- they don't care about me, or my feelings. And smiles are the thing that I must fear the most. Those cheesy, plastic smiles, with bright, cheery eyes that burn with a hidden need to know the dark side of me, which isn't supposed to be there. I'll never get used to those masks, and eyes that have two sides- warm in the front, and icy with a hint of hunger that is hidden a bit too well. My parents stressed of how I was only supposed to share the good things, which stung, because it meant that there were things about me that they weren't proud of. I felt angry at first. Why not? Just go ahead and tell your daughter what a disappointment she is to you! But the more I talked with people, the more I understood. They were doing it to protect me and themselves (mostly themselves) from any harmful words.

It's like some sick version of the Hunger Games that happens in my own living room. I can't trust anyone or I will be stabbed in the back. One slip and that's it. It's over. I am eaten alive by harsh words and mean stares. I'd love to just turn my back on them, conveying just how much I don't care, but that wouldn't be honest. I do care about their opinions, and I need their approval, for some sick reason. It's an all new kind of starvation that I face. No attention. No love. What happened to the world I lived in once? Sure, it was poor and it was hungry, and there are many reasons I'm glad it's over. But if I'd known that to gain money, I'd have to sacrifice the love, I would have never agreed. I'd have grown up on the streets. And maybe I still have that opporunity. It would be easy. I'd just stay up late, slip out of the house, and not even look back...

But I can't. I can't because I care about them, even when they don't show any signs of really returning my love. Why can't my heart just give up, realizing that's I can't win a battle where I'm the only one fighting? It would save a lot of pain and a lot of regret, and I could just go cold and hard and plastic like the rest of them. Eyes that burn with ice, smiles that hide darkness. It would be so easy. But I can't do that. I know I can't. I'd never do something like that to myself. I'm stubborn and I'm angry, which is why I'll never change. Not for them and their their friends. I won't break because of the lack of reflection. I won't fall into that abyss of nothing but pain. I'll fight this until the end, never giving up or giving in. This is my life, not theirs, and I will not break because of them.

Maybe those ideas are what hardened me into a person who refuses to trust. That girl who sits alone and draws like a freak. The girl who's parents are rich. The girl who refuses to live a perfect life. That's what people think. I have everything so great, and so easy, but I'm stupid and don't accept it. That's not true. Perfection is all smoke and mirrors. I live behind a mask, trying to sort through what I hear and what I see. Do they really care, or is it all just more lies? They have to care, right? I mean, I'm their daughter! But... but... I'm not sure any more. I'm just not. I can't be sure. I can't trust what those smiles. I can't trust those words. I can't trust them. I can't trust... anyone.

I glance over at Red for a moment, desperation and the need to be able to trust someone surfacing on my face. What would it be like? How would it feel, knowing I had someone to confide in? But sadly, that is a fantasy that can not be acheived. I slowly shake my head, giving him a sad smile. "Red, I wish I could trust you. But I've lived in a world of riches for too long. My lifestyle doesn't allow me to trust or befriend anyone... not even you."

And with that, I slip under the fence, unable to hide a smile as mud streaks part of the skirt on my dress.