The Brown Eyed Dreamer

'Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.' William Wordsworth

Found. (Part One)

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Crowded places had always been a refuge for me- I loved the safety of numbers, of being just one dull, expressionless face in a black and white canvas painted with dull, expressionless faces. In supermarkets, cafés, airports and bustling streets I allowed myself to be lost in a wave of people, one ripple cascading among thousands of other ripples. In crowds I was always hidden, a tiny shuffling secret, safe- that is, until she found me.

I was in my local bookstore, a chain store that was always heavily populated with quiet whispers and wide eyes roving over the many-touched spines of newly published books, when I saw her first. Lazily eying a shelf of second-hand novels I had the sudden feeling of being watched, and so I turned. 
And there she was.
Her every feature was as starkly similar as the last time I saw her, as if she had been frozen in a picture frame until this very moment. But now the frame had shattered, the glass had exploded around the room- I could feel the crashing sound ricocheting in my head, could feel the blood on my hands from the jagged glassy edges. The girl had escaped from the still photograph, and my trouble was only just beginning. 
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Author: thebrowneyeddreamer

Teenage girl from the mysterious, rainy land of Northern Ireland, obsessed with music, France and movies. I like to write books and poetry when I can get my head out of the clouds.

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