Looking around i pause to wonder, what am i doing here? I don't belong, i'm the freak within the sea of expectant faces, all looking for an explanation. A reason as to why i don't fit the pristine mold set forth by those who came before me. The thinner i get, the more ravaged my perfectly disheveled look becomes. The smaller i become, the more i resemble my drug fueled self.
Outsiders scan me, i don't appear to make sense. I should either be dead or on a corner somewhere, i am not collegiate material it seems. Then it happens, they find what appears to be the answer! My scared and battered arms tell a tale that is no longer true. Injection points map out a story of another life, of another girl caught between life and her mind. They are just that though, scars and a terrible tale but, with all the stumbling and bruises my fragile state impairs on me, it all looks the same to an outsider. I'm just another lost junkie wasting her time and someones money.
She straightens her blazer and decides to take charge of what she feels is a vital opportunity to prove her worth to the institute, she storms up to me and asks for my visitors pass, 'We can't just have random people wandering the campus miss.' I smirk back watching as her confidence slightly wavers.
' I'm glad we have people like you keeping us safe then, perhaps you misspoke and intended on seeing my student id?' This i speak with as much venom and energy that black coffee can provide to a full time student and someone who manages a full time job whom hasn't eatten in nearly 4 days. She checks my id and clomps away while i continue to smirk and stand my ground. My vanity and ego is an act only performed for self preservation, to protect my withering veins from hurtful words and poisons that allow me to reside in my mind, away from the every day traumas. Gosh i miss it.
