She could have sworn that She had seen that face before, the bruised face with eye bags painted blue and purple, the colour of the ocean as the moon twinkles down, caressing the water as if it was once a close friend. The lips that we're slanted downwards, showing the misery and disappointment the woman had felt throughout the years she was smiling like a child. The eyes that unlike her younger self were dull and lifeless, like a ragged doll that used to belong somewhere but now lies underneath the bed of a grown up girl. The hair that fell just below her shoulders, dead ends and long passed dyed hair that once used to gleam bright red underneath the patient sunbeams. It wasn't an everyday occurrence, seeing that face, but it was more often than not. Mainly days that reminded her of what used to be and not what is now. Those days. Oh how she wished she was back to those days even though at that time all she wanted to do was to escape it all, oh how naive she was, oh my...

Looking down at her crippled body she secretly wondered how she even got like that in the first place, even though deep down she already knew the answer to her question, she always knew the answer, she just always chose to ignore it. Her wrinkled hands were yet again staring back at her with sad, disappointed lines. Those hands had been through a lot, just like how her eyes had seen too much and her smile had seen too little. Ironic really, how only now could she see that she had both waisted and fulfilled her lifetime, deciding which outweighed the other was difficult and even though later on in life she had been called smart, at that moment, she felt like a 6 year old little girl waiting for Father Christmas to appear, anticipating the overweight man who would come deep in the night and eat the cookies and milk left out.

It was mid spring when the bright, petite smile faltered for the first time. She was 8 years old when she ran outside of her classroom with her two best friends, oblivious to the dark shadow lurking just around the brick wall. Of course at that age no one could even assume anything bad would happen in a school, at lunch time, behind the main building, pressed up against a brick wall, away from prying eyes...

She was energetic and a sweet child, most adults loved her and said to her mother about how well behaved she was and about how cute she looked. She had big brown eyes and short messy curls apon her tiny head. Her mother liked her wearing dresses so she could show off her cute little daughter to the world, she found it fun and became very prideful as that was what had came from her own blood, no one else's. Blossom, a little flower that was just the embodiment of beauty herself, well isn't that what they say to all little children at that age? No

one is special even though poor little Blossom thought she herself was the most special little girl in the world. She was wrong.

As I said, it was mid spring when it happened, her two friends Kate and Maddie were playing a normal game of tag in their little red checkered dresses, white frilly socks and hair tied back with a matching red checkered scrunchie.

"Tag you're it!" Blossom shouted.

Kate looked at Blossom mortified and said in a rather high pitched voice "Not again!" She whined to the couple and fell to the floor upset and feeling utterly cheated. When Blossom leaned down to help little Kate up a boy in the far side of the playground called her over with a shout and a wave. His