Ms. LeCren Grade - La Jolla High School

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She was always a little bit different.
Of course, everyone is a little bit different—she
knew that.
Still, she always stood out just a little bit more.
Not at first glance though; most of her differences
lay under the skin.
Superficially, she was pretty.
She had wide, kind eyes.
She had smooth, unblemished skin.
She had a bright, genuine smile that she shared
with as many people as possible.
She wasn’t without flaws; in fact, far from it.
But she looked… nice. And it drew people to her.
Getting to know her was a different story.
Not that her looks gave a false impression.
She was nice. She smiled a lot, laughed a lot.
She was good. Mostly.
But…
She was a liar.
She was horribly, horribly selfish.
She was conceited and arrogant.
Not openly, not obviously—it wasn’t a side of her
very many people saw.
Still… it was there.
She knew. She was all too aware of her ugly vices.
She felt like a Venus flytrap, an unsuspected
danger for the “flies” she lured her way.
She wanted to shout a warning to the world,
“Don’t come too close! I’ll only hurt you, harm
you.”
She tried to tell people. They never listened.
They never believed that someone who looked so
nice could be such a destructive force.
But she knew. She knew they should have taken
heed.
“They’ll get hurt,” she knew.
They did. She cried.
6
She was always herself, never prone to putting up a
front.
She was an open book, emotionally.
When she was happy, her eyes told you in emerald
pools of light.
When she was sad, they told you in trailing tears.
Her anger was plain in the set of her eyebrows;
her frustration, in the set of her lips.
In times of misfortune, the world would know of her
plight.
Although her feelings were always apparent, they were
not lasting—she was never one to dwell.
There were times where she felt overpowered by the
intensity of her feelings but, like the tide, they ebbed
after some time, unfailingly.
Even when she tried to hold on to some emotion,
tried to remind herself that she had been murderously
angry just an hour before—
She could never re-summon the feelings that had
tormented her,
or banish the irksome and final sense of release.
She loved easily,
and was loved often.
She cherished her time alone.
She liked to ponder the workings of the world, the
endless aspects of life.
She was wise beyond her years,
but she was still just a child,
and she recognized the longevity of the journey ahead
of her.
She was afraid a lot of the time.
She knew it would hurt sometimes.
She knew the road would be rocky.
But she embraced the challenge.
She accepted it, welcomed it.
She lived.
Brittany Crowe
Teacher: Ms.LeCren
Grade:12