Part One

Today was like all the rest, dull boring miserable.
I went in the city, iPod blaring, and rain pouring. Disgusted looks by passers by, along with mutterings of 'what the hell' and 'what's with her hair?' So I'm a walking freak show, who cares?
So what if I decide to put purple through my black dyed hair? Does it matter?
Or is it because you once knew me as that sweet little girl with brown curls? That girl, who was innocent, then became corrupt.
People who have been through what I have don't come out the same. To witness ones life ending changes you. To be the cause is even worse.
I skip from town to town, always turning up in this little old town, where my life really started.
It was that one person, that one night that changed my life forever. Maybe I could have been the next bimbo to walk around the streets, maybe not. You'll never know now.
My names Dahri, remember it.