Scratched Out & Painted White

I am blank...Or rather, I am crumpled at the bottom of your book bag, covered in scribbles and doodles and scratch-out marks. Yep, that is me, the worthless girl.

It's funny, I never thought I'd be here. Or anywhere near here. I was this shy, reserved, avoid-all-human-interaction girl. I was that girl who cried if the teacher picked on her, who dreaded recess, and lunch hour...

Nonetheless, here I am, pursuing a career in journalism and crossing my fingers that I can become fearless in a matter of months..
Perhaps I should just retreat back to my book haven. I can become a frizzy-haired, cat-owning recluse who stays within the walls of her familiar sanctuary writing pages upon pages of life through characters. There's no failure in that.

These fears and doubts are off topic however, and so I am back to my principal statement: I am blank.

I am blank in a way that I can't describe...Possibly because my words are being swallowed by blankness and taking my thoughts right along with them.

Oh, what's that Professor, you want an opinion...?

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Crap.