Staring in to the stars above her she wished so desperately to drive. To drive for long hours in a direction and not care where she ended up. To listen to the music of the radio fade in and out. Leaving it on one station, just so she could hear something new. Something different. To hear the change just as she felt it.

She stirred inside. Stirred in a way that made her heart flutter and her eyes hunger for new sights. She wanted to be free. Wanted to be fresh. To twinkle at a distance like the starts. To be visible, but untouchable. To be like bulletproof glass. Completely transparent, and unbreakable.

But she was here. Stuck. Sleepless. Conflicted. She wanted to make peace with a town that didn’t deserve it. To call it home again, and mean it. But what did this town do to hurt her? Nothing. What did it do to help her? Nothing. She and it owed each other nothing. They had become stagnant. Stale. Neutral ground where nothing was bound to happen for as long as nothing could ever happen. Both of them were dying of boredom. It was killing them both slowly. The town, held on for as long as it could, but never would it live to see it’s glory days again. She was dying from a much more severe disease. The kind that you could feel coming, and know it could be stopped, but not knowing how.

She watched all others around her try to find the cure. Drowning themselves in alcohol and drama. Small towns like this were good for those kinds of productions. Where lovers loved, lost, and then played games dancing around like fools from one person to the next. All a stage. One bottle to the next. She felt like a puppet. Knowing everyone played around her and pulled her strings as they pulled the strings of others. She tired desperately once to cut those strings, but they were like iron. So she hid them instead and eventually people forgot to notice they were there. Instead she tried to drowned in retail therapy, and self loathing. Those were her vices. That and blasting music so loud that the world couldn’t help but disappear for a moment more.

Perhaps, she feared desperately once, it would never be cured.

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