"She lives in a glass jar. Like the butterfly you caught when you were eight. She can see freedom but there’s always the glass to contend with. Most days she can ignore her limitations, but on some days - her demon days, she can see every restriction and flaw in her tiny world. Those are the days when she escapes into her mind. She can spend hours there lost in her thoughts. They tell her its not normal, it’s not like her. She laughs, and what exactly would they know about her? She puts on a show for them everyday: they know the character – not the actress. Even then she has fun, she has perfected her role as the ingenue. They think she doesn’t notice the small details. They don’t know that she enjoys watching them. It’s the voyeur in her, she loves eavesdropping and observing the interactions of strangers."
She laughed, and her gaze fell upon the puddle on the pavement.
Horrified, she realised amusement never did reach her eyes.
