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Hellcat
Raya didn't like to be part of the group, she wasn't like them and didn't wish to be. If they wanted to keep shunning her as a result, let them. She wasn't part of the cool kids, the geeks, the brainiacs, nor the elite. She was her own person, a lone wolf, and sometimes that meant a price was to be paid. If it resulted in being on her own more, rather than with people she didn't have much in common with, then so be it.
Her escape was in books and art. She loved reading, and hours would happily fly by while she read novels and fan sites. She interacted a lot with like-minded readers, but she was always sensible to keep her private details to herself. Sure, she'd openly spill her guts about what she was feeling and why, but she never crossed that line and gave out her number or address. She was lonely sometimes, but she was never stupid. Sure, sometimes cute guys asked for her photo, but she was careful. Even her Insta account and other media held limited information on her. People were far too free and easy with their details, she'd seen how simple it was to find out a great deal just by piecing stuff together from various sources.
Her other great love was art, and she was good at it too. In fact, she wasn't reticent at all about posting that online. She was making quite a name for herself in the world of digital artistry. At only sixteen, she was still young enough to know she was naive and inexperienced at some stuff, but at others she was daring and defiant. Her imagination knew no bounds. It allowed her mind to escape and visualize her books she read, but it also aided her in thinking up great artistic compositions. She was clever and talented. She was very pretty too, but nobody had told her that, and she never really saw it for herself in the mirror. No great beauty truly does.
From the sanctuary of her room Raya blossomed from a girl into a young woman. Few even saw how much she changed, nor did they notice how she liked to play with her looks. She'd change her hair, the colour and length, the styles. She'd pretend to be characters from the books she liked, or else mirror the fashions of her favourite artists. One day she'd wear pretty dresses, the next she wore men's suits. She was experimenting all the time, with make-up, with colour and materials and with her growing budding confidence. Nobody really looked like she did; nobody even tried. In fact, had it not been that...
Her escape was in books and art. She loved reading, and hours would happily fly by while she read novels and fan sites. She interacted a lot with like-minded readers, but she was always sensible to keep her private details to herself. Sure, she'd openly spill her guts about what she was feeling and why, but she never crossed that line and gave out her number or address. She was lonely sometimes, but she was never stupid. Sure, sometimes cute guys asked for her photo, but she was careful. Even her Insta account and other media held limited information on her. People were far too free and easy with their details, she'd seen how simple it was to find out a great deal just by piecing stuff together from various sources.
Her other great love was art, and she was good at it too. In fact, she wasn't reticent at all about posting that online. She was making quite a name for herself in the world of digital artistry. At only sixteen, she was still young enough to know she was naive and inexperienced at some stuff, but at others she was daring and defiant. Her imagination knew no bounds. It allowed her mind to escape and visualize her books she read, but it also aided her in thinking up great artistic compositions. She was clever and talented. She was very pretty too, but nobody had told her that, and she never really saw it for herself in the mirror. No great beauty truly does.
From the sanctuary of her room Raya blossomed from a girl into a young woman. Few even saw how much she changed, nor did they notice how she liked to play with her looks. She'd change her hair, the colour and length, the styles. She'd pretend to be characters from the books she liked, or else mirror the fashions of her favourite artists. One day she'd wear pretty dresses, the next she wore men's suits. She was experimenting all the time, with make-up, with colour and materials and with her growing budding confidence. Nobody really looked like she did; nobody even tried. In fact, had it not been that...
