I sat there staring at the flight attendent trying to be cheery while passing out peanuts. Which are probably at least a few days old. I considered to ask her what the point is to wear a fake smile when she really was upest or angry. I had given that up about a year ago when my parents had started fighting. They to would wear the fake smiles. Almost as if they lived at a masquerade ball, and carried around that smile as if it would protect me. From what? I would often wonder. After all it wasnt like I didn’t know. They would scream then look at me, and smile. One day I had finally had enough. I walked in on them fighting and told them to just drop it. I was living in a whilrlpool. Circling around and around the the real heart of it, and no matter what I would eventually die trying to get out. Or I would just hit the middle of it at last. I told them how I would rather go out. They looked at me and finally dropped those horrible smiles.