Muse, paint me over & bring a smile upon my face. Suck the words out of my mouth & inebriate me with stolen ambrosia of the gods; beautiful & untouchable...

The deal is; Choice was transported away from her castle into the city of lights as a child. She grows up on top of the highest building looking down at the production of the world below. The chill of the high altitude sends shivers through her spine. This is where she lives, this girl with porcelain-fragile skin & purple eyes. As she wanders, Fate points a gun at Choice. The taste of metal in her mouth is there so much that she would forget about it. Every night marks an extra day that Choice has to live.

Choice lives the way she wants, with the music turned up loud, battle scars all over, and a dreamy smile curled in her strawberry-glossed lips. She is there for a stranger when needed and makes love with the dark-winged angel boy who keeps the frost from forming on her face.

As she grows older, the cold city wind slowly gulps Choice in. She sees the beauty in the purity around but is raped by drunk men, fallen by invisible bullets, and burnt from matches that were never intended to be lit.

The beautiful view comes with a price; that one day, Fate will do her job & pull the trigger when it becomes too plastic and too buried in herself. Crimson pools & sweat & sugar--this is what her life was about.

Choice is reflected in all of us, but we forget about that gun that Fate points at us. Look in the mirror & try to find some of the beauty representable of Choice's, because everyone has her breathing down the neck. Acknowledge the gun & find the right moment to snatch it in control. Just don't forget to read the fine print & work on your aim.