Standing on the bridge, she wears a blank expression on her face. Her hair as dark as the night that embraced her, flowing as smooth as silk down her figure. Her lips redder than blood, eyes staring coldly into the city night sky. Without a doubt, she's a beauty. The expensive fabric that clad her body suggests she is currently well-off. She exudes the vibe of the wealthy.
Her eyes, it's as if they are telling a story. It's as if she has so many questions, but none were answered. She's so tired of thinking for answers. Her expression speaks of the lost of hope and trust. As the city shines with much light, she wanders off alone, avoiding the heated atmosphere in the town, posed by the red highlights. It's as if she gave up on trying to fit in, of trying to live up to the society's expectations. She came to realize the impossibilities to escape from the stereotypical and hypocritical society. Her silent cries to be set free, but knowing it's impossible, she kept them hidden and sacred. She could only voice it out to herself. She could only hide who she really is. She could only wear that false facade and be the person that everyone expects her to be. Seemingly lost in her thoughts, she thinks if this was all there is to life. There has to be more.
But what?
The feeling of being surrounded by so many lives yet still feeling alone. The feeling of being offered so many directions yet still feeling lost. She seems to be looking at the reflection, probably from the building in front of her. As she maybe staring at her reflection, she asks, who is that? All the doubts and uncertainties. She continues to ponder by herself quietly in the noise of the city, standing on the bridge.
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