It would reflect light beautifully like a cool pond after the storm has passed

And everyone tells me that I'm crazy. Even my friend who was the first one to say it out loud, that Juha was beautiful (or did she perhaps use the word hot?) thinks I've crossed a certain line and am now wading through a swamp that may turn to quicksand. My friends say they can't stand hearing me talk about Juha and the trial and the attorneys and my new Juha-friends anymore. They say it's too much and that they wish I would talk about the normal, fun things I talked about before. Some suggest I should start jogging or something. Because maybe something is really wrong with me.

My sister is scared that Juha may come and knock on my window one night. I barely dare to fantasize about that dream coming true. 

Just go to a party, get drunk and make out with someone. But the world isn't exactly overrun by boys who'd like to make out with girls like me. 


I already know a lot of things are wrong with me.
First and foremost; my skin is ravaged and Clearasil don't do shit for it. Sometimes I imagine I could peel off the outer layer with a knife, and then, beneath, a perfectly smooth and rosy complexion would reveal itself. It would reflect light beautifully like a cool pond after the storm has passed. And I would be beautiful. And being beautiful is important when you're a girl. Much better than being smart or kind. For now I just hide underneath a lot of foundation and powder and my long hair falling across the cheeks like curtains in houses where dark secrets stay inside the walls.
I also know that there's something raging inside me. Once I cut the whiskers off a cat. Another time I burnt the wing off a Daddy Longlegs. And sometimes I think I wouldn't feel a thing if my mother died. Or my sister. Or my friend.