I'm a princess of the suburbs. With a cigarette wand, a smoke halo, and a smile to cover the secrets.

O. I blow smoke rings in the air. The rest of the day was as bad as the first. My escape proved to be my downfall. I just needed a break.

"Can I have a light?" There he is. Jesse. I get a good look at his face. Light hair, shaggy but cropped, high cheekbones and eyes that were like a velvet night. He looked a lot like Leonardo DiCaprio, really beautiful. I wanted to hold him. He wore loose jeans and a plain shirt. I saw Timberlands on his feet, stomping on the wet ground. The sky glowed grey.

"Sure." I opened up my purple Bic lighter, the sight of the flame calming me. He leaned in, cigarette between his lips. I brought the lighter to him, and felt his stare.

"You know smoking kills." He said. I laughed. "Hypocrite." Shrugging as he inhaled, he kicked the ground.

"So where you from?" He asked. I smiled a little bit, sadly.

"California."

"Pretty big move." He commented. I nodded. "I'm a foster kid." Raising his eyebrows, he crushed the cigarette.

"How long?"

"Since I was 10." Jesse looked at me. I didn't know what his expression was because I avoided eye contact. "I gotta go," I muttered. I didn't know what was happening there, so I did what I do best and ran away.

In the car, I clenched my jaw. Why was everything so hard for me? I wished that I could escape to wonderland forever. I had one enemy, one friend, and no overlap.

I stepped on the gas. 60. 70. 80. I closed my eyes. Just a little more.

Lana. No.

I saw his eyes.

I opened mine.

Brakes. I just rested my head on the steering wheel.

Get a grip.

"Lana, how was school?"

I almost killed myself today. "Good."

"I'm so happy. Any homework?"

"A little. I'll do it in my room."

I can't see ahead. It's like everything is in cloud of fog that I can't see through. Where will I be in 5 years? I don't know. For some reason, I always feel like everything is going to end badly. Like I have no control, and I shouldn't try to stop it. I have no desire to be perfect, only to be normal. I am too dark, and wound upon my head.