She had the hair like the sun, eyes like the trees, and a mouth pink like a rose. She never carried herself right, beaten down by the world, the minute she left the hillside. The green pastures, the star filled nights, the crickets almost on the clock every single night provided a comfort she now longed for. Busy city streets, busy lights, and busy faces everywhere. No time to slow down. No time to speed up. No time for anything but work and sleep. That’s how she always felt. Life was always a struggle. Never a blessing. Always a fight, without the encore.

And recognition was rare in busy city life. So many people, they all seemed to blend into a vortex of nothingness together. To create one force of nothingness. Some convincing themselves it is something, while they poured that dirty regulars coffee for the 18th billionth time. Some realizing how little their existence meant, carrying themselves with at least a kind of admirable humility. Some wallowing in their own misery, clearly taking it out on everyone else.

The way she saw it was you had three choices to be; ignorant, intelligent, or angry. There was no other choice when doing mundane jobs. It was, play one of those parts or starve.

Deep down she knew it was time to evolve. Time to break away from the role partially. Time to think about some way out of the cycle of work without passion. She was done listening and ready to go out and fight down life again.

For awhile she spent time being purposely mundane, blending in, and going along with the motions of the majority. No one cared. She didn’t mind at the time, but the hole in her chest cut deeper as each day of meaningless existence passed on.

One night, she made a big mistake. She calls it an accident to this day, but the truth remains inside of her; like a haunting vessel at sea, it provokes her thought processes. Every dryer, every tub, every story like hers still subtly struck.a nerve. A tub, a plugged in phone dumped into it, and a complex without power was the scene. Crying parents, her lifeless-like body lifted from the water, while her burned wrists looked like some kind of sacrifice was the scene. She, of course, doesn’t remember anything but waking up in the hospital.

They thought she did it on purpose, so she had to say it was an accident.

Why am I still here? I wasn’t supposed to live?! Now I’ll have twice the bull crap if I admit to anything. Yup! Total accident! Geez. I really screwed this up. Can I go back? Undo this? Nope, haha! Of course not! She thought.

The nurse was intuitive, knew something was off about the situation but her hands were tied without proof. The cellphone accident was plausible as well, so it was written up as a mistake on reports.

I guess this is my second chance at life created out of death. 

The thought was strangely comforting. Perhaps she needed to look death in the eye to be back to life.