As the smoke rises, there is a girl. Stood in the middle of the room, raised slightly from what should be the normal ground level. Purple hair glowing, wearing black jeans and a dark t-shirt with a profanity scrawled across the front. Attitude, obviously a dangerous child. I only say child because of the parents staring from the ground up at her. They have placed her on a pedestal for the whole of her life and now they are paying. it was a big mistake - she is clever and is given everyting on a platinum platter, silver isnt good enough for her. She wants the world. She wants nothing much at all. She wants to be normal. She doesn't enjoy being gazed at by people she will never see again, it’s not normal. Be Normal, Be Normal, Be Normal And then I wake up. Just a normal 17 year old, in black jeans with a tatty t-shirt with a word too rude to look at with out blushing. This is me. Trying oh so well to fit in but, as you can guess, failing miserably.