I cried out into the cold, as if he could hear me. As if he could see me, as if he were even there. I sat on the harsh cobblestone ground and spoke to myself as if I could have prevented it, as if it were my fault. I stood up and weakly accepted the faint feeling, and then the darkness. All I could hear were the soft voices saying,"Is she okay? We may need a medic." Those soft voices wrapping me up in a warm blanket, yes, they were nice, but I wanted him to be around, telling me that everything was fine.

I have spent a long time pouring my thoughts out into writing, and I want to say that writing has been fabulous, and everyone should write at one point. Not everyone gets a gift of good writing, and I am thankful to have it. I get writer's block- in fact, everyone gets writer's block- and even though it's not something we look forward to, I love living the experience. It takes all your thoughts away, but when you get it back, you have all sorts of thoughts bouncing around in your head. I found that all you have to do is ask someone to say something- for me, the magic word is orange- and your writer's block is gone! Like I said, I love writing!

I always wanted to be that happy, energetic, enthusiastic, hard-working and funny person who has the ability to never get rattled. I am, unfortunately, not that person.

I can only be that girl who I long to be when I sing, dance, act, paint, read and write. I am that girl of the arts, that girl who needs to do these things to live.

My name's Anne.