• She dreamed of being a princess, having birds flutter onto her finger tips, and having butterflies around her. She wanted a castle, her own prince charming, and her own little happily every after.
    She wanted to be rich, to have many clothes, getting anything she wanted, and being the best mother ever. She wanted her name changed from Torri to Esmeralda because Torri wasn't a princess name.
    But now, now that she looks back, she doesn't want any of those things. That was the dreams of a happy six years old girl. A six years old girl that was spoiled by her family, and always gotten attention. A six years old girl that was care-free and that didn't know the world so well.
    But now, now that she realizes that there's no fairy-tales. There's not a prince charming, waiting to sweep you up by your feet from his noble steed.
    No.
    There was nothing of that she dreamt of, nothing. It was all fake, a whole lie to keep her alive in life, to keep her hoping and wanting to live to see the outcomes of life.
    Now that she found out the whole truth, she doesn't want to live. She can't stand living on the streets, by herself except with a few other home-less people that she'll meet when she travels and decides to sleep under the highway with.
    Now that she's turning twenty-four, she wants no part in life. There's no more hope, encouraging and keeping her going in life.
    No.
    She takes twists and turns inside life, hoping and wanting to find the right path, but she always falls down, and there's nobody there to help her up.
    She's no longer the little six years old girl that wanted a castle, nice clothes, a prince charming, butterflies floating around her, or changing her name from Torri to Esmeralda.
    No.
    She's the twenty-four years old woman who wants no part in life, wishing for even a little bit of shelter, and stealing clothes from local stores to keep warm inside the bitterly-cold winter weather.
    Yes.
    She wants to find at least a man who would take her in, and keep her inside a house. Any kind of house, anything that at least has a roof.
    Yes.
    She's the new girl, no longer the six years old girl. She's the girl who's parents that don't care much about her. She's the girl that doesn't get any attention, no matter how many times she begs for money.
    Yes.
    She watches as her life goes on in front of her, doing anything to just stay alive. . . Or to even die. She doesn't care about anything, she now sits there on a small bench inside the park, hoping to freeze to death so she wouldn't have to live any longer. . .
    Yes. . .