She enters the classroom quietly, looking down at the floor, and takes her seat in the far corner. Her dark hair falls in front of her brown eyes which are outlined in black, egyptian style. She slouches in her chair, bringing her legs up close to her, comfortable like a cat. She remmained silent throughout the hour, watching, listening, interested but indifferent to all that went on around her. Her thoughts where morbid, complicated, philosophical. Know one would know. She kept to herself. One might see her laughing, or walking arm in arm with a boy or two, or maybe reading a thick novel or two on theology or humanity. She went unnoticed. Her friends where few but close. Her life and activities did not hold any importance to the teenage population, her teacher admired her for her creativity and quietness, but she was not important. Shrouded in obscurity. Weekends and holidays where looked forward to. She knew that she shouldnt be doing most of the things she did on those days... she knew her parents would be very sad and angry with her if they knew. She still enjoyed herself, playing with her friends from far away. She was wild on those days, an extravagant contrast to her school life. She enjoyed the company of many a young man, yet still spent most of the time with her two closest friends. All logic and sobriety was thrown away on the weekends, she would do most anything to have fun, so be it if it happened to be illegal. She was sneaky, in a wordy kind of way. Yes, she did proclaim to sneak as well as any assasin, but her strong point was words. It came by her naturally, her body language, her smart tongue gave her freedoms that others would have to work for. She took pride in her lies. They allowed her to appear differently to different people. She knew she was not the prettiest thing, but through sly seduction she could make people beleive she was. Thoughts usually turned to death. She was morbid, sardonic, and often pessimistic. She had her flaws. She had her layers. She was misunderstood. She had stories of happiness and sadness. She had her sense of humour and adventure. She was unique in every meaning of the word. This is how she lived her life. What happens when she dies? Emerald Amaranth My story... my life... understand me. in the name of myself