Wander Boy

The narrative now shifts to highlight the perspective of a girl, a human girl. She was honestly nothing special. She was perfect in no way, she didn't draw any attention, and she lacked the skills to do anything productive. She really wasn't the type of person that you'd waste any of your time on. Even her parents found themselves trying to avoid conversation or other social interactions with her.

That being said, she wasn't exactly nothing. She was beautiful in both the sense of physical attractiveness and the fact that she seemed to be invisible to those around her. Long red locks fell from her head and spilled over her slender, freckled shoulders. Her emerald eyes were complimented by her pale white, smooth complection. Her tall and lanky build would leave someone breathless if they cared to actually look at her.

Sadly, no one chose to look at her. There were nights, like this one in particular, when she pondered why this occured. Sure, she wasn't platinum blond, didn't have sparkling blue eyes, or have a D-cup bra size. She was lanky, ginger haired, and she felt her B-cup bra size was less than adequate. She didn't play an instrument, didn't participate in sports or any clubs. She shyed away from people, leaving her with aqquiantences rather than friends. She didn't speak much to others, avoided answering questions in class, anything to push the attention away from herself. For years that had been her goal and it worked. But she was a Sophmore now and she yearned for someone to finally notice her.

And that was her importance to this tale comes into play. This girl wanted nothing more than to be noticed, to be dazzling, to be brave. She wanted to have the courage to speak up or do something worthy of being looked at for. She longed for the persistence she needed to make friends or have an actual realationship with her family. She was so ready for something to happen, anything, that would set her apart, point her out, and make sure that the world knew she had a name and a dream and that she was going somewhere in life.

As she did every night, she browsed the internet for hours on end. She checked Facebook -though she had friends there, none talked to her- and then moved to Twitter, then Tumblr. She used her free time to check her plethora of internet accounts before crawling into her bed. She stared at the ceiling for awhile, checing her phone for text messages and calls that would never arrive.

"I have to do something about this," she muttered to herself as she pressed her hand to her forhead, pushing her bangs back. She fought tears that played on the edge of her eyelids, determined not to cry over this problem. She had done this to herself by avoiding everything for so many years. So, it was something she did. And it was something she was convinced that she could correct about herself. She could fix what she'd done to herself.

"I'll speak up tomorrow, about something. Anything. I'll get noticed tomorrow," she said to herself over and over, as if chanting it to herself would make it true. However, in the back of her mind she knew she'd never speak up. She would not get noticed tomorrow.

Although her wishes would not come true tomorrow, the universe was well on its way to helping her and another lost soul caught in its terrifying grip. Things for the girl were about to change, there was absolutely no doubt about that. But no one could have predicted whether the change would benefit either of them, but the universe was content to sit back and watch how its plan would play out.