She
lived near the prickle bushes. Every day she would walk endless
miles to reach an undetermined destination. She kept walking. But
she never got there. She always did things for a reason. But she
didn't know why she did them. She just knew there was a
reason. Her family hadn't made it and she lived in a house
with all the other girls in this shallow-lived town who had also,
lost everything. But that home was just a temporary cage. She
could run to the furthest corners of the galaxies, but she could
never escape. So she would just walk. Not really hoping, but just
wondering. About everything. One thing she wondered about the
most was why some people made such a spectacle of themselves.
You're destined to the same horrible yet not-so-glamorous
fate as the rest of us. She wondered about a lot of things, but
she never reached conclusions. Because as she did, people did
things for reasons. But like her, they still never knew why. So
she would walk, and she would wonder. She would live a simple,
quiet, undeterminably short life. But she would never die.
Because in her mind, she would never truly have lived. But
somehow, she still did, and if you were to wonder, like her, why
people make such a spectable of themselves, you would trace back
to her. The girl that walked. The girl that noone knew. But if
you wanted to know, She lived near the prickle
bushes.