The wind lifted my hair off my back, forcing it into a crazy dance that would never stop.

My blue checkered mini skirt opened and closed its mouth slightly, uneasy about its inability to express words that can never be said.

My legs jangled in its deaf little word, swaying from side to side without any goal, without any direction, occasionally banging heavily on the concrete wall that I was sitting on.

My heart knocked hard against my chest, scream, clawing, banging at the forever locked doors of my rib cage, desperate to come out, desperate to escape.

My head was tilted to the sky.

Strange.

I thought, Everything around me is so unsettled.

Restless traffic stream past below my feet, the undercurrent of a rushing river. Mom and dad are at home, most probably screaming their heads off at the most recent money issue or maybe dad's new scandal. Jess is probably slithering all over his other girlfriend, who squirms in some unhygienic surrounding, panting to the rhythm of their little pleasure world.

My lips play a little smile as I tilted my head back a little more, my gray eyes following the white dove that flew above my head against the backdrop of the azure sky. Here, it was peaceful. Here, it was quiet. Here, it was dark. My smile grew wider into a manic grin as I looked back down at the blur of rushing cars.

It is a dark, messed up world that was so crammed with complicated twists that it never had the space to spell the simple word of S-I-M-P-L-E in it. Haha. Stupid. I closed my eyes and my head swayed from left to right, the tuneless melody of a little poem floated through my head as I released myself from where I was perched.

Hey, hey, let's play a game,
Let's play one that would drive you insane.
When I say hit me, you'll whack me hard,
One time, two times, until I fall apart.
Hey hey, let's do this again,
Falling over and repeating, we'll sing.
Into the darkness and into the flames,
We'll wind up in hell, and we'll burn lights.
Into that hellhole, it'll be so bright.

The last thing I heard, was a manic laughter, that sang to the pretty hell hounds that were rushing up to me, their sharp teeth awaiting young flesh, their red eyes bloody with murderous lust. It was a manic laughter, from my manic self, that did not sound like mine.