Ordinary

Razor sharp words fell from her mouth with as little effort as it took to breathe. In a single instant she had the power to scatter the world into further oblivion and chaos, or remain silent. She did not, however, have the power to significantly impact it for the better. Despite tremendous efforts she was destined to remain ordinary: a figment of ridicule and skepticism, constantly being analyzed and scrutinized because perfection is unattainable. She would remain in her hometown, never to reach Juliard or Harvard and meet the mayor of some unheard-of-but –prominent-city. All her life she would work to achieve absolutely nothing. A hundred years from now a single name would barely be distinguishable upon a stone marking where her remains were cast after she was emancipated. As future residents would walk by the stone, they would not even notice the name written out in elegant scratches, or take the time to see that she was just another girl swept aside by the urgency of society’s anxious desire for the impossible. For her, the only thing that mattered was who she was and who she would not become. She would live her life searching for something better only to remain ordinary. So as her words fell from her mouth, ultimately what she said would not matter.