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Escape- I have been captured in this image for hundreds of years now. For an eternity, it seems. Throughout my long, tiresome existence I have travelled in the arms of mortals.

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Introduction

Escape I have been captured in this image for hundreds of years now. For an eternity, it seems. Throughout my long, tiresome existence I have travelled in the arms of mortals. Naturally, some marvelled at my beauty, gazing in wonder at the skill of the artist who had painted me and thus given me life; some slashed at me viciously, disfiguring me with satisfaction while others restored me meticulously. But I curse the artist who has made me- I am his remains. His life's work is imprinted in my colours; the outline of his silhouette is the brushstrokes that finally make me and thus give me life. ...read more.

Middle

Except, it is my eyes that haunt those who behold me. My eyes meet every one of my viewers- who can claim such an ability? My expression, my face is never changing, frozen into a moment. The world moves around me; they come and go but I remain How I envy these mortals as I survey them from my beautiful, bordered cage. I began life on paper but I am determined that I will not end it on this canvas. I have thought of the moment that I will stage my escape. ...read more.

Conclusion

Perhaps, in the depths of my paper-made heart, I am content to be where I am. Perhaps, it's only natural to want to be immortal in some way when you can only live for a few years that suddenly feel like a blissful dream or an inescapable nightmare, depending on how you have lived. I have realised that my existence can mean so much more; I want to do something worthwhile for as long as I live, so that when the time does come for my final farewell then, I can look back with pride and say, " The other day, an interesting girl stood before me. Her t-shirt read: "On display, look but don't touch." Too right, I thought. ...read more.

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