Her brown locks blew around her face, her bottom lip puffed out. She stood strong, her hands resting on her hips, her posture perfectly strait. Her dark brown eyes were focused on an object only she herself could see. She stood there like that for hours in her superwomen’s pose. Her shoulders slumped foward. Who was she kidding? She was not powerful. She was not a woman any one looked up to, or even cared if she was there. They probably didn’t even know she was there. She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking the tears that wanted to flow. Was her life always going to be so useless? Was she going to grow up to be a nobody?
She began her slow walk home. Could she even call it that? Wasn’t a home suppose to be where she belonged? Wasn’t it suppose to be full of warmth and comfort? She tucked strands of her hair behind her ears. None of those adjectives fit her house. None at all.