I stare out the window, whilst listening to sweet nothings; oh such sweet, sweet nothings!

“You are as beautiful as the stars that light up the evening sky!”

“You are as precious as a jewel amongst gems!”

“You are brighter than the sun that brings upon each day a new dawn!”

My quill’s tip tap-tapping on an empty notebook. My frustration building to a climax.

("Why does this infernal being keep pestering me so?”) I think to myself.

The tapping of my pen quickens; as my rage slowly builds, so to my hatred towards this person!

“You are worthy of nothing less than perfection!”

“You are as graceful as a nightingale that takes to the sky!”

“You are as rare as what a Pegasus is in myths!”

“Be still!” I shouted out in anger, my quill ripping through a page, ink spilling from its golden tip as it did so!

“I’ll never be desired… Love is just… Nothing…” My anger ebbs away and sorrow takes its place.

“Why must I torture myself so? Whispering sweet nothings to myself, only causes me more harm than good.” I speak to no one but myself.

The clouds that seemed so far has finally rolled in, covering the sky in its thundering darkness, the storm now fully upon the small village at the edge of a cliff. Below the sea raged on, as my own anger does beneath my saddened complexion.

“Why write when there is no one to read? A useless exercise, for a useless girl and a pathetic excuse for a human being!” I scold myself as tears fill my eyes, but my hate continues to swell fuelling my rage! I stare now at the empty pages that lay ahead of the one I just ruined, and those that told of a story before it…

A story not yet finished.

A story of girl that for a time will never be accepted.

A story I would not realise was so true as it was…

It all began 'bout eighteen years ago...