Elizabeth

After we went inside Louis and Niall had set up a place for us to sit and watch movies. "Let's watch Toy Story!" Liam shouted sitting down and everyone groaned.

I frowned tilting my head, "I think we should." Harry spoke up looking at me.

"Wait, why?" Louis whined while Liam cheered.

Harry chuckled, "Because, mate, I don't think our dear guest has seen it."

Everyone stared at me in shock, before Louis and the others begrudgingly played it. All the while I watched as Liam did some wierd victory dance, before a pillow shot at him. 

I giggled quietly and turned away to hide my smile. After all it was ugly — just like me.  I shook my head and we began our Toy Story marathon, which I'll admit I may or may not cried to.

Soon I fell asleep as the 2 one played out. My mind playing over the episode before I feel asleep.

They were just like me. Fragile.

Only there was something so different. They were plastic, made of chemicals, whilst I was made of flesh, blood, bones ( at least however amount I had left), and made for the fun and entertainment.

Something I realized I had had in common.

I was the entertainment for the people around me. They bullied me for their entertainment, cutting scars into me, just to laugh at my pain — I could not subject to that. Despite having already done so.

But would you not do so, as well? After all, it has been more than 5 months of extensive bullying, hatred, haunting.

Haunting of my old self.

Could I not become my old better self? Would succumb deeper into the abyss I found my self having entered, unbeknownst to myself?

I crawled into it. No.

No, I was pulled into it. By demons I knew I had to fight off, but how? How could I do so, when I myself  was allowing it?

Right? I was the one letting them harm me, not stopping it, and going deeper into the abyss.

It was all my fault.

Or perhaps not, perhaps it was someone else's, perhaps Jasper's. For he was the one who had turned before hand.

No, I must not think like that, for if I did, it would mean it be true.

That I was only known to be entertainment, caged within myself, fake.

~ • ~

(This next part will be a bit confusing, solely due to the fact it will be 3rd Point of View, then switch, then switch.)

The girl was beautiful, with eyes as sparking as the stars, or even the Sun if you wish to think as such, hair as dark as the night, and her beautiful dress like the moon, a pale white, her her demeanor seemed to radiate what was already be-knownst  to all.

A demeanor of calm, as she sent waves of lethargic energy  as she sang lightly to the little girl.

Others would have described her as a dying girl, whilst I thought o 'the girl as a simple too that would close her eyes physically but spirituality she would continue to live.

I sighed as I remembered all the others that lived the faith this little girl has, maybe different lives, but same fate — getting raped, and feeling broken.

.

This little girl would not wake up, and it saddened me to the core. I know people wish for her to be dead, but what would be said if they actually died? Would they remote for her death, or laugh at the fact?

It sickened me.

Would you wish for someone to wish the same upon you?

.

I frowned at the girl, wondering how I could know what she thought. At that moment time seemed to have froze, and that's when it struck.

Why so was so familiar.