• Meet Sasha Elizabeth Saye, who is of no importance- except that she is the topic of the moment, which makes her, of course, vitally important.

    Let me describe Sasha.

    A girl. Teenager, 16 years old, about 5'3". Brown-blonde, dirty blonde, light brown, whatchamacallit hair- crazily curly and a total mop-like mess. Really pale skin, a too-small mouth. Brilliant blue eyes, ringed heavily with black and gold eyeliner, a Hot Topic special. One tiny scar that looks almost like the marks left by someone's two front teeth riding along the furrow of her forehead, right in the middle. Skinny, pale limbs, small hands and feet. Thin, flat figure.

    Now the outfit and accessories. Broken, beat-up black Converse, size 5 1/2. Chipped black fingernail polish, and toenail polish as well, though you can't see it. Jeans, originally dark but with the knees faded from wear. Black leather and shiny chains, wound into a thin, ropy belt. A tee shirt that advertises a musical- Little Shop of Horrors- performed at her high school last year. Militaristic blouse, all army green and metal studs, buttoned across said shirt, wrong button clicked to wrong button. Sleeves covering her hands, all the way to the tips of her pinky fingers. A scarf with blue, green, red, black, and gold stripes, knitted. A necklace made of the remnants of a pocket watch, accessorized with a small diamond stuck to one gear. A black hat, the simple kind that just look like winter snow gear but are at the same time a part of emo/punk fashion.

    So the girl's a mess. She has potential, maybe, to be daintily pretty, but at this moment she looks like a total, rag-bag mess. Just look at her, mentally. Still, she's smiling. Externally.

    What about internally? Shall I complete this mental picture with the cold, hard truth?

    This girl- she's broken. The army blouse disguises thin red welts up and down her arms, a patchwork of horrifying artistry. The jeans hide the same pattern on her legs. Deeper cuts on her torso, sure to be hidden by any shirt. She's suicidal, spending too many moments contemplating the thought of her death. She's miserable. She's a great actor- she hides this from everyone, and does it remarkably well. Looking at her, you'd think she was happy, impulsive, crazy, strange, poor, exuberant, a little bit stupid, a little bit smart, anything but the truth: broken, suicidal, miserable, depressed, hurting, defiant, cowardly, untruthful, introverted, hateful, loving, hiding her life away.

    Me.

    This girl- she's me. All five feet three inches of fashion-challenged attitude and perfect acting.

    Nice to meet you.