She was walking alone, completely alone, in a dark, hidden path. She had consciously chosen to walk this way as it was a shortcut, and besides she wasn’t afraid of it at all. Her dark hair, damaged from the different colors that she used on them, was tied back on a high ponytail, since August had come back, spreading its heat all over the town. If I was her, I would walk faster, I would even start running in order to cross this road, so that I could finally return to a more crowded place. If I were her, I wouldn’t use my headphones, so that I could hear every sound that was out of the ordinary and I also wouldn’t look down on the road but in every corner, in every possible hiding place, so that I could be sure that nobody was there. However, she did not do that anymore. Not after the countless times, she had been broken. Broken by her father, her teacher, her ex- boyfriends, or even from total strangers that she happened to cross paths with. All these wounds: the unexpected touches, the caresses, the hurtful, disrespectful talking, the stares, made her become less vulnerable, nothing could now scare her. She, perhaps, knew that no matter how hard she was looking or how carefully she was hearing, like she used to do before, nothing would actually change, because her wounds would not heal, but they would scar her forever…
By K, 16 years old