There she stood.

There she stood. Dressed in white, so white, it turned the world black. The road was empty, the lights were out, yet there she stood. They said Earth was a fleck of dust, lost somewhere on the shores of the Universe. Yet they said the Universe was limitless, with no beginning and no end. It had no center; or perhaps, it had endless centers.

So there she stood, center of the Universe. She smiled for a second. She felt special. Then it faded and she hated herself again. And she hated herself and she hated herself, and she hated herself for hating herself. And she felt special again, because she did not feel special, and girls like her felt special for hating themselves. 
Yet I saw her, and she was still center of the Universe. The brightest stars and the vastest galaxies were nothing more than freckles on her face. I looked at her, and the complexity of it all felt so simple. 

She was only free when she was alone. And her loneliness enslaved her. She loved music, she said. Deep down, she knew she loved the music that made her feel special. There she stood, and the whole world fell silent as melodies she imagined blared in her head. She stared at nothing so intently, that nothing became the only thing she knew, a fiery eruption of visions she pictured so vividly they became her reality. Her only wish was that the whole world could hear those melodies with her, see what she was seeing, experience what her mind was envisioning. But she was content with it being her own little personal paradise. Or so she told herself.

There she stood, feeling stupid, and invincible. She did not care. She couldn’t care, or else she wouldn’t be standing there, in the center of the Universe. She despised the thought of being a stereotypical middle-of-the-highway-dressed-in-a-white-shade-of-black-looking-dazed-and-oozing-artificial-melancholia girl, and she knew that was her reality. And still she wanted to feel special, and still she hated it. And she was alone, and she was free, and she couldn’t escape being alone, and she was trapped again.

She looked at me, and she laughed, and my eyes widened. Did she just look at me? How can she see me? She can’t see me. I see her. She’s dressed in white, standing in the middle of the highway and that so-called center of the Universe, and she’s alone. How can she see me? I thought she was the only thing that existed. 

And she kept laughing.