Destination Unknown

Let me tell you a story about a little girl. Picture perfect state of grace. Innocent as children should be. Yet beneath her war paint is a map of spider web scars drawn over the surface of her skin. Threatening to snap her twigs of veins. A road map of white lines traced one too many times. Fake smiles hiding tear tracks that mark up her cheeks and smear the painting she worked so hard to create. But still underneath those snowflake papier-mache sleeves are crimson cranberry designs working their way from her elbows to her wrists. And beneath those petal pink tights are paperwhite railroad tracks criss crossing over peachy flesh. But she promises she is okay. That the designs traced up and down her body are nothing more than reminders to keep going. And yet here she is screaming for help and tracing the map over and over and over hoping it will show her where she belongs. But who’s to say that it won’t lead her down the wrong path?