I picture an open field, lined on one side with a grove of black trees. White flowers paint the ground, swaying slightly in a faint breeze. I walk out from amongst the forest, dressed in white, blending with my surroundings. I feel blades of grass slicing gently across my feet as I enter the field.
But the flowers do not bend beneath me.
I am invisible, merging with the flowers and the field and the wind. There is no record of my presence there. The flowers go on living, uncrushed for another day.
If I could live my life this way, I would. The ground would stay unaltered, my feet too light to leave a trace. And the hearts of the people around me, unmarked by this strange girl that looks to gain so much beauty from so very little. But I don't want to hurt them.
I just want to disappear.
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