The lights dimmed in the streets as the sunlight slowly faded away and day became night. Not a soul was to be seen, expect for the youngsters running from club to club, finding the best place to start a great party. If you didn’t look closely, you properly wouldn’t notice the little girl seated by the end of the street on the sidewalk, looking out for nothing and everything with eyes so dull, that she almost looked dead. Especially for the drunk youngsters, to whom the night was still young, and there were a lot more soju to gulp down, before the  sun again would start to shine over the little country, the little city. The youngsters lived for the night. Some might say that they should watch out and not drink too much, but they didn’t have a care in life, which was why they didn’t do anything to the girl, even though her look was so dull they thought she was dead.

   The girl sat there every night. Whether or not she was there doing daytime, nobody knew. Nobody cared. But why would they? She was just sitting there every night, staring. The one and only soul, who used to care, disappeared. He left. Since then she’s been sitting at the end of the street on the sidewalk, looking into the dark night. She would most likely be looking for him, but the way her eyes were so dull that not even the smallest pit of light shined through them, it seemed as if she wasn’t looking for anything. She wasn’t the talk of the town anymore. She used to be though. But that was years ago.

   When she was sixteen she started sitting there. The only soul who cared, left on her sixteenth birthday, and since then she’s been sitting there every single night, not missing one. For around three or four weeks people talked. Why was that little girl sitting there? What was she looking for? Was she just too damn drunk every night to return home? Or was there a deeper meaning to it all? But as she just continued sitting there, showing no progress at all, things started to fade. Nobody knew, but secretly she was happy about that. She didn’t want a lot of people sneaking around, taking pictures, trying to talk to her, or talking about her when they didn’t have a clue, in the world she described as cruel.

   The cruel world had tried her in so many ways, which let to where she was left know – the end of the street. The street wasn’t solemnly looking. It had a mere feeling of horror and doom to it. Well, that’s what the girl thought. As for the youngsters, they didn’t have such deep thoughts. They looked at it as their home and found it loving. But why would they think differently than that? They didn’t have a care in life, as long as they had their friends, family and food on the table when they went home from school every day. Nothing bothered them. Of course they would be sad at times. Then again – who wouldn’t? But for the girl at the end of the street, it seemed like everyday life to sit around, being sad and ignored by the passerby’s. Yet, she ignored them too. She had nothing to say, nothing to tell, nothing to share with anyone. What was interesting about her life? She did have a thing for asking herself that question. She would answer it in her head – nothing. Going to school like a shadow, never noticed by anyone, and then in the evening going to the end of the street to look at drunk people wandering around, or just to look at nothing at all. And that’s the simple reason she didn’t talk to anyone. She had simply nothing to talk about.