“If I loose then I suppose it’ll be alright ‘cause I’ll be upset for a little while but then I’ll rise above it. I mean it really doesn’t matter to me if I win or not. I just love to do it.’ Theses words, so innocent and mature seem strange to come from such a frail, small figure.
Ashley, 11years old and born and raised on the rougher side Brooklyn USA. She normally had beautiful tanned clear skin, from her mother and bright, burning eyes from her father. Normally she had rose cheeks and a thirst for knowledge but not now.
Her father, well, she’d never met him but those who had, said they looked the same. She didn’t mind he’d failed as her dad- “I can’t miss him ‘cause I don’t know what there is to miss” she would say if someone asked. Ashley cared for her small family, she was the elder of two, her younger sister Tori was the attention seeker, Ashley being the caring, more intelligent of the two; Tori not so much careless, just more outgoing. Everyone said shed be a ‘singer or an actress or anything that performs.’ Ashley however, utterly different. She enjoyed reading and the feel of fresh grass on bare feet; at weekends she’d sit in her room and paint, she loved to paint. She would paint the scenes form her books, there was more than enough of Ashley’s work hung up in the Manning flat. The rest she gave to the local Liberian, Mrs.Shears or to her teacher or Rex, her friend from school. Ashley loved her life and everything around her, she was content, and inspirational some would say. But as I looked at her now, I could see something else, a secret, and not a good one, a menacing secret. I more like a rigid feeling she was keeping deep inside, and you could tell, it was eating at her insides and building up like a thundering storm.
