The dark blanket laid on the surface of the sky, swimming over her head in the motion of a calm ocean; and lying beneath it on the George Seuffert, Sr. Bandshell made her feel the rotation of the earth rock her in an easy sensation. It was too late even for the most dangerous criminal to be awake – even the bold new moon appeared dizzy and dreamy as it gazed down upon her. Yet, she couldn’t have cared any less about rest or energy; she was busy pondering methods in which she could save herself from tomorrow morning, or any other mourning for that matter.

Curling her hair beneath her fingertip and biting her lip, she also reminisced on the strains of her short life – well, what was her life, anyways? She herself had trouble answering that simple question. All she knew was that for as long as she could remember, there was something very agitated about her misspent youth; her name was slightly-known, but the secrecy engraved into her mind was buried beneath the tricky, obnoxious sighs running through the air of a diverse community; she couldn’t admit, but she knew she was troubled - haunted by the demons of suffocation caused by the thunderous screams coming from high expectations, touches from the demented, thieves of lives, and a stubborn conscious, and it wasn’t easy facing up when she realized that her situation couldn’t have been worse than what it already was, and-

“*Anything is what she is/ anywhere is where she’s from…” she crooned to herself, filling the air with lyrics and distractions.
As she felt the world rock her back and forth, her mind became inclined to dive into a deep daze; although she didn’t want to address her problems or think back to the reasons she was crying in the afternoon – the length of time she was crying or-
“Anything is what she’ll be.”

Or how fragile she felt when it felt as though the clutches of dusk grasped her towards eternity when she saw her begotten companion was clutched by forceful powers into a deathly cab, disappearing into the horizon; she could-
“Anywhere takes me away.”

Remember feeling rivers of her blood stream rush as she fell to her knees, pleading to the merciless mother above to give her peace – peace, love, death, but a cleansed new soul in Heaven, where she knew she so longingly needed to be more than anywhere else in the whole world. She pierced her eyes up to the sky, begging for a pathway far away from life – a map, a plan, anything to leave and burn into a crisp and live above and find her inner serenity---
“I can’t get there on my own!”
She had unintentionally screamed and jumped to the sound of her own shrills. In fact, her wails disrupted the bridged gaps of silence and cracked it throughout the atmosphere, reaching the attention of local civilians. Cars screeched, lights went off, and a baby in a slumber cried all around the crazed child whose skin went cold in embarrassment.
“Hey?” called out a worrisome tone. The girl stood up in shock, looking around to see who the perpetrator was. She got on her toes and prepared to leap to safety when they called out again.
“Um, hey…” The voice was coming close – too close to her. The only sound she could make was the erratic beat of her nervous heart.
“Hey – hey, girl,” No time to think, she sprinted off of the floor and dashed further into the secrecy of Forest Park, evading anyone who she couldn’t trust and dodged for safety anywhere.
“I just want to help you!” yelled the voice.
No, you can’t, she thought.

She paced towards a meadow of barbed wires, grass, rocks, and sand in an abandoned rock-way. The area was scattered with trash, half-broken glasses ready to slit any passer-byers’ ankles, and mud pulling down anyone’s legs; there wasn’t a single soul in sight.
She admired the lack of presence; it felt safe – not a single bother, distraction, or distressed reactions to ply her heavy heart further into the voids of her hatred. It felt good to feel dis-attached from the rest of the world; finally, she can cuddle to the comfort of lonesomeness and find peace in being on her own – God knows she needed it! What better way was there to escape from the cruelties in life but to carry on a trace of getting away from anyone; no one would harm her, no one would deceive her, and no one would rob her any further – peace at last!
Shame… The lonesome girl suddenly thought. She shook her head in confusion; what was she thinking about? She lay against the stone pillow as her mind, once again, walked off into a stormy, imaginative bliss, and entered into the realms of a past that was meant to be lost behind a door of curses, punches, and torn skin.

She recalled upon a time whence she was lured out of a promising future and invited to the dying part of glorious Queens. Perhaps it was the promise of comfort in the darker side of its view that grasped her sides and drew her forth. It was here where her control was a tormenting cycle of compromises that were to be gained and lost, and midway through it, the burns, thrills, money, service and speed blew over her, leaving her useless in her thoughts.

Abandoned, she sought some life in some regular passenger, who although was not trustworthy, distant, and angry, gave her the necessities she was accustom to. There were problems here and there, but these two sinful and horrible individuals were similar in the fact that they both needed somebody in their lives. She was in danger, and he was the leader, and she knew that they would eventually lead one another into the depths of despair and lie side by side in comfort when the time came…But her plan was ruined when he forcibly went on without her, even though he had sworn to stick around because he too needed someone – he too was a sap like she, and he went off and lied to her, leaving her to face the world all by herself.
Shame.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, confused.
Everything about you – your decisions, ideas, life… The fragile child threw back her glazed eyes over sockets and chuckled; she was talking to herself again. She madly bit her lips and inhaled the cold air, preparing her shameful self for another deep internal conversation.
“Aw, lis’en, it wan’t all my fault.” she whined, sniffing in more damp air.
Then how did you get to this point? She huffed under her breath, wondering where her wild mind was going to take her this time.
“It was des’ined to happen, man, God jus’ played me a cruel one an’-”
That’s all you got to say? It’s not your fault at all?

The girl groaned her head over the rock, whining like a child in distress for praise and attention. What was going on? Did she hit her head too hard on the boulder and drain herself into some weird day dream. She wanted to leave, but of course, she was trapped in the cage of her own mind, and was forced to listen. The Earth seemed to move at a faster pace this time.
“Look ‘ere, man,” she lazily sat upwards, scratching her popping veins back into place.

“I seriously ‘ave nothin’ to say ‘bout it, all this jus’ happen’d for the bad re’sons, alright?” she swooned unintelligibly.

It wasn’t your fault that you left home and messed around, wasting your sanity, and live with some scum who didn’t care for you?

“Oh, my God…” she whined, clutching her head between her hands. What was the point in blaming herself in further on why everything had happened the way it did? Yes, she should have asked for help – but she was too afraid; she could have said no – but she felt that it was right to say yes; and she should have been smarter – but her pathetic soul was destined to fall off her cloud nine and sink into a pool of acidic despair.

How did you let it all get this far? Why couldn’t you go back home, go back to school, or just find a way to-
“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know, I don’t know!” she flared in rage, sitting forth from the rock to scream at the wind.
Do you like what you’re doing – running away, kissing off others, lying, trying to get by with-
“Shut up!”
How dare you do this to-
“It all jus’ happen’d!” she pleaded.
Face the facts!
“I’m scared, gimme a break!”
What have you done to yourself, Rea? She squealed an agonizing pain to the gleaming moon and unleashed her inner hatred towards the entire world.
“Don’t ask me – I don’t know what happened to me – I don’t know, I didn’t plan for this to happen all like this, I didn’t, I promise – I swear it!” she confessed. Her freezing arms trembled against the artic evening air, as she gasped and gasped as it felt that her lungs were expanding in salty water that was sinking her lower and lower into the core of the Earth.

“I’m – I’m – I’m just an idiot who probably deserved all of this! Someone else should have taken my life – they would have done a better job at living, because I don’t like being me, I hate me so much, that – that, I would be better off…” her voice had become over-whelmed with grief that she could no longer finish off her sentence, and having to be forced to stop, she finally sunk and fell to the floor.

Her bones creaked in discomfort and her glazed eyes looked frantically left to right, searching for anyone to save her from the distorted rock-way. Too horrified to move, reminisced to an imaginary time where she had a home, her mum and dad, Lola the Dog, her friends and teachers smiling over this wonderful charmer who brought forth joy in every eye her smile met. Then again, it wasn’t real – it was all just an illusion they wanted her to be; she wasn’t anything – she was pathetic, hopeless, and they failed to realize it. In reality, she was in the middle of nowhere, a queen in Queens sitting upon shadows of shattered sorrows and thorns. Yet, it felt that there wasn’t anything at all in the setting – no ground, glass, trash, light, or company; pure isolation, perhaps, was too distant to even lay by her side at this moment. As no one or nothing was around to aid her, she could hear one last sound come from her decomposing mind: What are you going to do now? No response.

Instead, she set her body across the dagger of glass beneath her, and cried a teary lullaby of tiresome groans and mocked herself for being so arrogant of her one and only life; she had one shot and ruined it in only a handful of years, and now here she was; worthless and cold, staring at the awakening sky.

“Take me, please; my time is finished.” She silently begged. She knew that she was too pathetic to breath for another second; she could feel one-third of her presence die off while she winked her end in the face of nature’s new arrival.

“Save me, save me.” She could no longer feel the world revolve beneath her.

“Yes, this is Rea.” Sighed the distraught mother, whose husband stood still in shock. They had never felt a greater joy when at last finding their teenage daughter, but never felt a greater stab in the heart than finding her – this beautiful, intelligent, gracious lady - dead in her favorite regional park. Her death was published in the New York Times, leaving the atmosphere of Queens, New York feeling as though a hurricane had ripped through the happiness of everybody. Soon, twenty of Rea’s friends organized a public funeral at Trinity Church, many of her relatives flew in from all over the country to give her their final good-byes, and a local musician decided to play a few songs for the fallen child. In the midst of tears, sorrows, and hugs, Rea’s sister, Tamara, suddenly went to the front of the chapel to say:

“Before she ventured off into the chronicles of whatever she lived for the past year, my sister told me that she felt as though she was suffocating under her own skin, and it struck me as odd; I loved her dearly, as did my parents, and anyone was willing to buy the whole world for her, but to me, I believe that there are those born with distraught souls of a horrible past that make their way into new lives, eating he or she alive like a decomposing disease, and I believe my sister had this type of soul. She had everything material, emotionally, and financially wise, but mentally, she was distraught and alone. What really went on her head – what goes on in anyone else’s head? Did she truly feel unhappy, or was she only living in fear for whatever this new life had in store for her? I wish I could know. However, I do know this: my sister, Rea Lovelace is not the only soul in the world who feels like this, and in honor of her, I will do everything to make sure that this happens…Never again, for there is a beam of hope that never fades away so long as we are around to support our fellow falling souls.”