Darling, Don't Lie to Me

Some people hate sympathy from others. I, in fact, live off of it. A terrible shame? I'm sure of it but never ashamed. I loved the feeling of seeing other people's eye smolder with underlying sorrow and sympathy. Hearing their apologies was a sweet symphony that rang in my ears and practically lulled me to sleep.

But my comforters just couldn't read my real expression. They probably saw a troubled and depressed teenage girl but on the inside I was, in reality, jumping with joy and triumph. I'd like to mention that even if my problems weren't exactly dreadful but ordinary issues that plagued everyone, they were still present. However I never gave my time of my day in thinking them over. They were just an excuse to take advantage of.

What exactly was my advantage? I had run away from my 'home' when I was 14, dyed my hair so I became unnoticeable-another normal girl on the street as Mertig, mybest friend had once said. Luckily, I had been given two names by accident after my birth. There was my alibi.

And if a bystander came up to me and claimed that I was the 'runaway' kid in the flier that they, oh so tightly, gripped in their hands, I would respond with a simple yet convincing sentence, "I'll have you know that's my younger twin sister. Cady, her name is. Poor girl was a bit insane, I suppose she just had to...find herself." Laced with a innocent and secretly mischievous smile.