"But I'm not the girl you once put your faith in/ Just someone who looks like me...So better take the keys and drive forever/Staying won't put these futures back together/ All the perfect drugs and superheroes/Wouldn't be enough to bring me up to zero." -Aimee Mann


I stare at myself in the mirror and I think, “What happened to the little girl I used to know?” I know the answer to that question. She died in high school, when I found out that people don’t always have true intentions. She died when I learned that he didn’t love me. She died when I lost it: the mental institution, the drugs, the sex, the rock and roll.

Her face is still there, though hardened by the cynical teenage years. Her eyes are still brown, but behind them, there is a frozen glare waiting to thaw. All that passes through her brain are the neurons and chemical reactions, from all the fucked up drugs they force her to take. Zoloft for her depression, Trazadone to help her sleep, and the self-prescribed valium she buys off the guy at the corner. It helps the pain go away.

What would you do if this is who I am? This strung out junkie on so many pills and pain killers, who hides behind a “normal” teenage façade? You would never know. Check behind the eyes next time.