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Child Star

I lay pressed against my hot, sticky pillow,with the blankets pulled up to my chin. My room was dark except for my alarm clock, shining with an eerie green glow. It was nearly 3:00 am put my eyes remained wide open, and I felt wide awake. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs, as I sucked in great heaving breaths. I heard a soft knock on my door and a second later my mom slipped in. “Oh honey, you're not still awake are you?” she asked softly.

I sighed and sat up pushing the covers off me letting her put her arm around me. I rested my head on her warm shoulder, letting myself feel like a little girl, just for a moment. I felt tears leaking out through the corner of my eyes, pushing their way out. I choked trying to hold in all the guilt, all the sadness inside of me. Hot, salty tears poured down my cheeks, as I finally gave up my fight to hold it in. I pulled my knees up to my chin, feeling the soft, fuzzy, fabric brush against my skin.

“I’m just so sick of it, of everything, of my life!” I sobbed.
My mom nodded sympathetically pulling me closer to her, “Just say the word, quit, become a regular teenager, no more reporter, no more paparazzi, no more hectic shooting schedule, it’s your call honey.”

I took a deep breath and wiped my tears away. “No I’m fine.” I said softly, the lie gliding over my tongue. I smiled, combing my hair, and pursed the ruby red lips that had sold thousands of magazines, “I'm fine,” I repeated, “I’m fine.”



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