They stood back, watching her dance in the glistening droplets of rain. Why she didn't turn around for him, they didn't know.

He glared, discgusted by the stupidity of the girl, and turned away. He couldn't care less for those below him- those who had no beauty- those who stood in the rain. But they still worshipped him, them who did not understand, and she still ran. He did not care.

Gracefully she falls down, clutching her heel, flexing and stretching as she pulls it out of the tune its set itself into. She feels the music pulling her, forcing her to move within its rhythm. She flows, like a river, cascading against the floor. She is a flamingo, living the waters of Lake Baringo, to head where only the angels can fly.

She is alone. No mate follows her lead. She glows with a youthful radiance, and possesses the wisdom of an Elder. She is dancing the dance of eleves, who move with immortal fluidity.

Tears fall down her face, and the bottom of her feet bleed, but the dance must go on, and she will not stop. She in love, she is out of love. She is happy, and then she is sad. She has moved a generation, and yet she has moved none she has known. She is beauty, and she is horrific.

She slows down.


She smiles and bows. Elegantly, she glides off stage.

"She's a beggar child, on the street, of course, who would harbour her? She's the peak of laughter, sir. Her mam ran away with a straggler all those years back, and left her here with her grandma. But her grandma, see, she don't like filthy brats like her, because she eats too much, so she sends her on the street, sir, to beg. She's stinker her, no one'll go near her. She must have consumption or the like sir.
No sir, it's wise you give her a crown. She's not good for that her. She deserve what she gets, the likes of her. After what her mam did, she's not ever going to get anywhere. She's paying her mam's sin of course."

"You are right of course, Niles. She doesn't deserve anything, the stemch she brings into this town. Tell her that she shall be killed if she is seen on the streets again. Either that or I will personally put her in a nouse."

"Aye sir, that's best for all of us. Her filth shouldn't be dirtying your streets sir. I'll kill her now, if you want, sir."

"No, it would not look good. You shall warn her, and if she is seen again, she should be hanged. Either that or she's yours. You'll be able to use her as you like."

"I don't know if I'll be wanting that sort of filth in me house sir. But I shall take her if you'd like sir."

"Do what you want Niles. Just see to it now. I am off now, she is left to you."

"Yes sir, goodbye."

She's all mine, all mine. Finally the wench'll have no chose but to obey.

Is there anywhere to hide? Because I don't want to be seen anymore- I want to hide in the dark forsaken forests, where not one person hears a word of what I say. Hiden under the stairs, so passing trespassers do not know what I hold in the gem of my hand.

Stems reach up and grow, its life is under water, seeking an old forgotten dream- I have no wish to be here no more, I have lost emotion now. What water stems my roots? What ocean feeds my greens? Am I a lost forgotten soul with no home to attend?

You don't hurt me anymore- only I can do that. I hurt myself with insecurity, while you hurt me with your words. I can't feel anymore, and I hate you for it. I hate that you did it to her, hurt with your words and your actions. You used to laugh a lot- you still do. You still think people like you- I don't. Every day you pass me, you and your cocky friends. You hate me- think you're all too great for a 'loser' like me. I don't care- I wanted to crush you during my exam today. I can't wait until I'm gone- no more of your face to I have to see again.

She scrapes away at her life, scratching out the old lines that once marked her age. Like an old tree, the rings make the shape of her heart- it dies slowly. I cannot reach out to touch her, tell her I will support her as a friend. I am not meant to know. What fool knows how she feels? I am not that fool, to pretend that I can help her. I cannot- my mind is not that advanced. I only want to help her, she will wear a smile, when her heart wears a frown.

A group of friends sit down and chatter. Everything is perfect, but reality strikes and the group is cut apart. Life boils over. New tidings come to heart.

She sits there on her pedistool, watching as the days go by. A new world has flashed before her. She's in another world. Her friends are not away from her, and she is all alone. A new group of friends she forms, but they're not half as close. The girls and boys both chatter, but that is not enough. 4 girls, 3 boys, there's bound to be an outcast.

She sits curled up on the floor, while they all dance above her. She's tired on being un-noticed, but no one's there to hear. The tears pour onto the floor: they do not understand her. Her old friends have now moved on, and she's left to suffer.

Where is the man that was meant to save her? Where is the love that will end her suffering? None shall come as she's 'not their type', and they are not hers. Love has faded like a dried out rose. The scent lond disappeared. She looks out from her pedistool, and waits for all her years.

The pain pushes her to the floor, grinding her bones into the concrete ground.

"Who d'ya think you are, you Paki!" the pale one spits out, grinding her teeth at her.

"Nothing. I did not mean anything. I am innocent." she tries to cry out, but is pushed to the ground by the pale one's male companion.

"See, ya even talk like one of 'em bloody slags. Ya're a good-for-nuthin' piece of brown dirt. ya shouldn't have even come 'ere, taking over our soil, soilin' the purity of our clan. We right Britons, we are." The pale one releases her mouth, savouring the words that the pale one just said. She, the darker one, cringes as the pale one kicks her in the head.

Frolicking in a mass of white pearls, she watches where she walks, watching each step as it dissolves into the ground. Flushing she looks up on the man who she is to marry. His aged face clashes against her youthful one. A deep scar marks her face, which mars her fate.

Her father follows behind, joyous in his luck of marrying her off. She is afraid, attacked from all sides, falling into a empty and never-ending pit. She can’t do it, not with him, not with him. His hands are like ice against her face. He marks her as his own with a red colour on her forehead. She steps back. She can’t do this; she can’t go through with it. He smiles softly, and she feels safe—but sick.

She can’t go through with it, the whole thing sickens her. She steps back, looking at all those around her. Her father smiles. Sickened, she steps back in line, awaiting the worst night of her life.

The blade was in her hand. She had the power to control. Glistening with blood, it stung her, as a bee stings a predator. She pushed harder and harder, pushing it into her skin, he stomach...

Warm liquid oozed out, she felt nothing, for it was too painful. It was much better this way, much better. No more pain, no more cruelty. The blade was pulled out, sending red freckles everywhere...

An hour later, a body was found. Suicide they said. It was on the 6 o'clock news. She was noticed then, noticed for the blood...

They are all dancing in the centre of the room. The other's hair is flying, hers' is not. She's quietly sitting in the room, minding her own ways, pretending not to care.

You laugh at her. She's silly to sit out. But's she's tired of pretending. She wants to leave, but the strings that tie her down are too tight. You won't untie them, for then you'll have to have her. You want the scarett woman, not her. She's too unique...

You turn to stare at The Other, and she is soon forgotten. She pretends to mind her own again, secretly watching as hands grasp the scarlett.

Holding a glass in her hand, she turns, a silver tiara glittering on her forehead. Dressed in all black, you cannot see her face, but she looks stunning.

She is not looking at you, nor anyone else. Her face turns up, and you see. She is dirt you have trodden on before, acid in your face. You are sickened by her image and run to flee.

She stands alone, now, looking out at see. Don't you see, she says, You have just not seen me...