The soft touch of the wind. The whispers of the air. They all softly and gently ruffle my skin.

I look down at the city below, filled with noise and light. From the hill I was on, I watch as people go by with smiles on their faces.

They sure do look happy. But knowing life, I know most of those smiles were facades. Masks worn to hide the anguish and pain in their hearts. Just like me.

My hair sway in the wind, unbothered by the weather and...