Nothing shakes her. It's as if she's a robot, controlled by buttons.

No one ever suspects anything, because shes doesn't let them. A sweet smile and flowing clothes. When she hugs you, you feel warm, never noticing the cold calculated thoughts that had blossomed.

Her eyes are dead. No one sees her stand in front of the mirror and smile, trying to find the perfect balance between too much and too less.

No one notices her observing other people, trying to see how they act and be one of them.

She fits in perfectly.

But her mind never does. And never will.

Alone, she drops the smile, cheek aching from the effort of keeping it up. She sits on the chair and looks out of the window, her mind ebbing and flowing, thoughts clouding in and out.

Why is she this way? No one knows.

Only she does.

She had always been a curious child. She was quiet, observant. So much so, she could mimic a person's behavior perfectly. She never did though. She never needed to.

But she got in trouble one time, and in the heat of the moment, she spouted a lie.

And then another one. Then another.

She created a web of lies, for such a small thing.

But it wasn't a problem ever. But then she felt the feeling a lying.

The beautiful feeling, when you know you got away with it. Such assurance, your expression is perfect, your voice immaculate, the lie so convincing, even you believe it.

She always did it, after the incident. Small steps, baby steps. She watched how far she could go. No one ever caught her.

That was the first step.

Then she got betrayed. And she hated it.

She forgot about it soon. But the it happened again. Then again. And again.

With each one, she learned more and more.

Don't make rash jokes.

Don't leak too much.

Don't give them a way to bargain.

Don't show them what you feel.

Don't tell the truth.

Lie.

Lie.

Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. LIE.

So she did.

She lied.

She took her emotions and tucked it away, in a shell. It had threatened to break free, but never could. She piled more and more, and the shell became a wall, and then-

And then there was nothing left. It withered away.

It all withered away.

She never could feel love.

It's all a facade. And she knows it.

But she doesn't care.

And she never will.