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 ^{(it's beta!)}

((Before I start, I'd like to say this is the start and finish of a story I've been throwing around in my head for the longest time now. It probably won't make sense, but it's something. ))

"The rain rattled on the trailer roof, rattling the thin tin between me and the outside world. That thin layer of metal was all that held me in this prison, trapped me in these walls. Sigh after sigh escaped me, contemplating on what to do with this life I had so miserably been given. After many years of this same contemplation, I have come to this conclusion: I have the typical American life that America likes to pretend doesn't exist. Questioning hasn't seemed to get me anywhere; I always do wonder, though. Why was it I was given this hell hole to live in? Is there some sense of achievement I should get, when I finally can't take it anymore? Is there some type of proudness I should feel, when one day I get out of it, just to have nothing? And that only leads to me questioning my existence, which I have never come to a just answer for. Sometimes I have this hate that enrages me, consumes every fiber of my being..but it always washes away quickly. Who am I to hate? The world? That would get me no where. Nothing could get me anywhere.

I think I'm dehydrated; as sad as I am, I can't seem to cry. People always say it's good to cry, but after you've cried so much.. Maybe I should start to explain myself. My name is Jennifer, Jennifer Johnson..or Smith..Stephenson, maybe..I don't know. Mother's been married far too many times, I don't know what it is she wants me to call myself anymore. And then there's James, the current step-dad. How I remember his name, I don't know. Maybe because he hits me harder than all the others..

I always feel like I'm trapped inside of my own body; there's no escape to this prison. There's no sanctuary in it, neither. Why is it I have to feel so terrible of myself? Why can't I be one of those girls that rises above all the challenges in her life, to become a mayor, or something else important? Y'know, those stories you read in the papers, and it's endless talk on how miraculous that person is, how they recovered..But then you get me started on politics, and how the world only publishes what they want the world to see. Such a cruel, unjustified world it is that we live in.

I know to live, to love..I'll have to get over my fears, my hate for this place we exist in. But how is it I'll be able to get over what will surely surround me my whole, miserably slow paced, existence? Maybe I should stop rambling now, stop making myself look even more insane than I am.

It was one of those cold, dreary nights that made everyone want to hide, to huddle together in warm blankets, basking in each others warmth. Well, on this cold night I found myself on the same rickety spring mattress of my long-lost childhood, bundled in some thin blankets, sitting in the room that had been titled 'mine' 16 years ago, on this day. It was my birthday.

While most would be jumping with joy, excitement filling their whole day..this was no better a day for me than yesterday. I never really understood the whole birthday concept anyways; why is it we celebrate getting older? Does each day not bring you closer to the day of your death? But there I go with my 'special' way of thinking again.

"But now...now I'm sitting here, telling you this, hoping for one last chance at redemption. Is this really necessary? Locking me away like this?"

Jennifer shook violently, her form in white falling to the padded ground. Cold eyes stared to her through glass, the only sign of an outside world. Jennifer's eyes grew frantic, tears swelling in them, water dripping from her core. Emotion. It was the last sign of being alive, the only thing she had to feel being locked away, chained together by strap after strap. Her mentality slipping away, pure, human emotion was all she had left as proof of her existence. Proof that this wasn't some terrible dream, and that she could wake up at any moment. To wake up to a rickety trailer, on her sixteenth birthday, miserable. There was no sound aside her staggering sobs, her desperate breathing and pleading.

"I explained it all! I did, I did.." she muttered, softly, almost incoherently. Laying on her side, her eyes never left the small window in that padded room, her prison. Those cold eyes, those eyes that Jennifer had grown used to seeing time after time, they stared, curiously, at the withering form of Jennifer. They stared, unfeeling, no compassion at all visible in the dark abyss which was brown, long lashed eyes. It was the only scenery that changed every now and then for Jennifer, sometimes they eyes were dark brown, sometimes a golden brown, sometimes hazel..rarely were they blue, even less commonly green.

A sinister smile came to the decrepit face of Jennifer, as her mind twisted and tangled, convincing itself that this wasn't over. That this wouldn't be forever for her. "Oh, ooh, I understand.. my story is quite the curious one to you, isn't it, Brown Eye? Oh, yes, indeed.. I understand. You'll want to hear it again. Please, though..only one more time, then I'm free?"

The eyes remained, blinking, before disappearing. The window was vacant. Jennifer attempted a nod, a somehow sweet smile comming to her scraggly face. "Mmm'kay..I'll tel you later, then. Later is fine."

The padded room began to disappear in and out of sight, as Jennifer began to slip in and out of consciousness, her mind falling into what some would call sleep..here it was just to take up time. She was not tired, she was just waiting..waiting for a chance to tell her tale again, a chance to be understood, to be set free..

And so she slept.