I Had To Be the Real Me

Trixie was a wild woman at six; she ran not only all over the neighborhood She was undisciplined, a pirate, an Amazon woman, a leader among men. I was intrigued, amazed, and in awe. She had the life I wanted. I was envious as I watched from my socialized cell of dullness. When we were twenty-seven, Trixie got murdered. Bam. Dead! Gone. The night I heard about it, I thought “if they can murder Trixie, they can murder anybody.” She had two little kids. I had two little kids. The only thing is, I had NEVER truly lived and she had….. The next day I decided to be the real me. If they get me now, I resolved, at least I will have LIVED. I began by laughing loudly, and enthusiastically began regaining my childhood self. The one I had shoved into a dungeon years ago to please my mother.