• The girl leaned against the wall at the back of the alleyway, her matted brown hair being pulled at by the scratchy bricks. She glanced enviously at the blonde and brown-haired girls as they walked past the alleyway, laughing and giggling. They had good lives. Nothing like the life she was living. Her toned legs had taken her to places others were too frightened to go. She had gone to those places to survive. Her brown eyes had seen things others would never have to worry about seeing. And nobody knew. Whenever she walked by, no one bothered to ask her if she needed help with anything. Not that she wanted them to, but it would be nice if they showed that they cared. But they just walked right by her as if she was simply a butterfly fluttering by. Wait-no, not really. The people actually payed attention to the butterflies when they flew by. She remembered when she was little, chasing butterflies in her grassy front yard with her parents and brothers. But that was all over now. She quickly pushed the memory out of her mind and went back to what she was doing (which was really nothing of interest), still thinking about the blonde and brown-haired girls.