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March 21, 2010

The Mannequin

I saw her and suddenly everything changed. She was wearing a white bow sleeve shirt and a pair of blue denim jeans. I knew, by the way she was looking at me, that she wanted out, that this was not the way she wanted it to be. She was crying but couldn't, was smiling but had to. She was running to stand still.

She just looked and stared, all day long, never uttering a single word. But meeting her was the best thing that ever happened to me. She didn't have to say anything. I knew. Of course I knew. How could I not?

Today, I found myself thinking about her, about the way she used to stand idly by. I miss her sometimes. They tried contacting her but she is nowhere to be found. She's gone and I'm the only one who can bring her back. But I'm not going to.

You might find this very hard to believe, but this story right here, is the story of a mannequin. My mannequin. To put it bluntly, this is the story of the idiot who used to be me.