December 25, 2008
By Madison Zielinski, Indianapolis, IN

There I lay, sprawed out across my bedroom floor. The small but bold strokes of color and art outline my not so perfect figure. Stomach: aching and paining of emptyness in the dark of the cold winter night. I watch the stars tell my story with their own words while his gentle finger slides down my cheek.

It feels like a dream.

(or a nightmare) But then his lover comes and shoots the moon to ruin my hallucination. Then I open my eyes to find my not so perfect figure still sprawed out across the bedroom floor.

The author's comments:
This is actually based on how I really felt at the time. I felt like I was having a real hallucination. I could even feel his hand touch my cheek...

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