She is quiet. One could describe her as a background character in her own life. She doesn’t stand out nor does she necessarily fit it. Her existence is paradoxical. In a word, she’s average. Her hair is wavy, brown, and shoulder length. It isn’t glossy nor is it crazy. Her eyes are brown, and her weight is average. She isn’t miraculously skinny nor is she overweight. Her clothes are normal, jeans, t-shirt, and a hoodie. She is Times New Roman, 12 point font. She is routinely used and when people want something more diverse and outstanding, they discard her. She’s “shy” and not outspoken. Her posture is slouched and her shoulders are drawn forward. It’s as if her body knows she’s insignificant and trying to shrink back into her shell. Her eyes are downcast and when she talks she spouts a poorly structured statement trying to include all her thoughts into one small interaction that she forgets to breathe and ends up flustered making herself gasp for air.
Naturally, she has interests, opinions, and feelings but she will never state them for she fears judgment and retribution. She knows her self-designated place in life and she chooses not to leave it. She’ll graduate college, get a job, get married, have kids, get a Tolkien quote tattooed on her bicep, and then she’ll die. Family and friends will be sad, attend her funeral, but eventually she will be forgotten. She won’t get to save the world or go on a life-changing adventure. Her life is insignificant. Even if you lead a miserable life, at least you can say that you lived. Survived. She didn’t. She merely existed as a blip on the vast timeline of history. She has the power to change her fate, but not the means to. She spends all her time dreaming of an unattainable destiny knowing that it is forever out of reach. Her wishes aren’t her own for she doesn’t know herself. She strives towards goals set forth by others. She doesn’t know who she is. And she never will. She can impersonate characters, but she is ultimately just stealing their best characteristics and wearing it as armor. Her personality is of Shelley’s design. She is who we all fear to be. You would think that it’s the villain, but at least the villain has a purpose. She is the nondescript white girl sitting in a coffee shop waiting for her order.
Narrative Nonfiction
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Forget the physical characteristics, but this 110% how I felt about myself only a couple of months ago. This person is non-fiction, so if I ever met this young woman described here, this is what I’d say to her:
Stop.
Why do think your life doesn’t matter?
Why are shelling your body in with
those mirrors remaining unshattered?
Come on, you know what they are for.
The ones reflecting designed personalities
The ones you keep “wearing as armor.”
Stop.
Close your eyes. Ok, not really.
I may still need you
to be able to read this.
Listen to your heartbeat,
at how quickly it’s beating.
I’m not doing that.
Your friends aren’t doing that.
Not even your own family.
Hmmm… interesting.
Stop.
You’re not the villian
or the one we fear to be
you’re the undiscovered clue
in your own murder mystery.
That key piece that gets a cold case off the shelf.
Who’s the victim?
You.
Who’s the killer?
Yourself.
Except the victim’s buried
Not actually dead –
The clock hasn’t run out of time
No, not just yet.
She’s surviving
And this close to thriving
If only she’d let lose the fire
(Yes, that one)
She’s carefully hiding.
Stop.
Your life’s not insignifcant
And no, you’re not average
Those opinions, feelings, and interests
are trying to spark these things –
I think they’re called PASSIONS.
Can’t you feel them burning?
Can’t you feel them seething?
They’re a “friendly” reminder
That you can
always
always
always
always
Choose whether to start living
Or keep breathing.
*Okay, I wouldn’t recite a poem to someone, but considering this is a written response, it was easier for me to communicate it this way.
She sounds interesting, selective and guarded. Introspective, specific and tough to get to know.
You made such an interesting story of someone society would probably not count as interesting, enjoyed.