Helena didn’t know what to do with herself sometimes. She was an outcast by the standards of HSHS (high school high society), and she was already convinced that she was deteriorating into a mad, mad state of affairs. With every passing second, she could only but ask herself one thing—exactly who did she deserve to be?
I thought I knew who I was, she thought.
I thought the world deserved to know my every detail.
Why do people fail to care?
Why do they refuse to know the difference between me and them?
Is everyone a maniac?
Why should I care if they don’t care?
If identity wasn’t made to please, then for what was it made?

Her entire life had hinged on the mere nod of others. If they failed to nod, then her door continued to waver. And if they did nod, then her world and their world clashed into a hybrid. Effortlessly. And the door crashed into the neighboring wall, exposing all the opportunity waiting to fall into Helena’s arms.
The future was that simple.
But is that what her future was willing to give her?
The flood of opportunity?
She wanted the world, but alas, she was yet to know whether the world wanted her. She didn’t know what to think. But she had hoped that all would go well.
Helena, however, was yet to understand just why everyone had fed her lies from the start. Of course she needed the world’s validation if she were to progress. How could she ever just be herself?