"if you like my freestyle

then check out what i wrote"

there once was a girl who tripped in love. while all the other girls fell in love, dainty, graceful, self-assured, wistful, calm, this girl tripped down love's stairs, bashing her head against the railing and bruising herself on every step. sometimes she'd launch herself down the stairs. sometimes she was pushed. either way, it always ended in purple and blue discolouration and a mild concussion.

every time, she'd get back up. she'd blush warm crimson and smile ruefully. she'd crawl up the bottom stairs and slowly regain her composure as she neared the top, straightening up, smoothing her skirt, tucking her hair behind her still slightly red ears. smiling. pretending. trying not to dream.

one day it felt different. she tripped, certainly, but she clasped the railing and, with a jolt through her arm muscles, stopped tumbling down.

she started to make more of an effort. she wanted to be subtle about it, so she just wore mascara on one eye on the first day. she practiced different colours at home, and the next day felt confident enough to wear mascara on both eyes. once self-conscious of the natural blush of her cheeks, she now painted them with blush. once concerned her hair remained in place, she now twirled strands loose from behind her ear, reddened now not by embarrassment, but by its close cousin: infatuation.


(i don't know what happens next.)