...whatever happened to her?

I could never forget her.

Even as a tot, she was rambunctious and prickly, a social butterfly who could never shut up. She would ramble about everything animals and nature; I was always surprised at how much she knew, even at such a young age.

Whenever I wanted information on something as simple as a bird? She'd rap off the species, quick and efficient, her tongue wriggling, never stopping. She could list every feature, every environment in which it thrived, any oddities of their behaviour. She was a walking, talking encyclopedia on animals, always learning, always wondering.

She played outside constantly, her dogs always by her side, as she followed deer and rabbits, being able to get incredibly close to them before they fled. She climbed the lilac trees, smiling and laughing, their scent attractive to her. One could argue she was Nature herself, the way she bounded through the woods, climbing trees and observing the local wildlife.

No wonder I always overheard the kids referring to her as "Nature Nut."

I watched her grow, her interest in animals still alive, but dwindling more as the age of computers ushered in a new world of possibilities. Soon, she had her nose to the screen, reading anything she ever wanted to know. She absorbed the information like a sponge, and the games that she found kept her going back for more.

It wasn't long before she became absorbed in video games, reciting lines from every game she played. Her father always thought she played too much, as she complained of her butt being sore from sitting too long, eyes sharp, focused, face dead serious as she leapt out of the way of a firing tank.

On the surface, she seemed like a typical child, absorbed in the technology of today, wanting to simply do nothing except sit in front of a TV and crunch level characters.

And yet, I knew there was something more there.

It wasn't just the enjoyment of the game she was seeking.

Deep inside, she wanted to escape the world around her.

I remember the jeers of the older children, claiming she was nothing special, nothing unique. Throwing pebbles, laughing as her temper rose, a time bomb waiting to go off.

Only, she never did go off. No, she was smarter than them, she would spit and swear at them, but she would never raise her hand to them, give them the beatdown of their lives. As time went on, through Middle and High school, she became more of a recluse, keeping few close, cherishing them and only them. Her tolerance of insults became high, as she simply smirked and walked on past, a flutter of hair and the distinct scent of lilac shampoo left behind.

She was better than them. She didn't listen to their jeers, their snide remarks. She smiled, knowing they had nothing, whereas she had potential. And potential was all she needed to leave them in her wake.

I often wonder if the divorce of her parents was what made her change. After that, she seemed to lose interest in everything accept the usual; animals and video games. And the few friends she held close.

She hardly went out, often being found in her room on days when normally she would be outside playing with a friend. She played soccer when the season was on, but it was clear her heart was not in it. This was just something to assure her family that she was still here, that she was still normal.

When, in actuality, deep inside, she churned. And that is where her video games and pets kept her occupied. They took her to worlds that held a great interest to her, worlds in which were beautiful and vibrant, endless in their existence. She felt the emotions that the characters did, laughing at their mistakes, crying at their pain. She felt she was a part of their world, and she felt that one mistake in game would cost her her own life. She teetered on the edge of real and fiction, finding some way to snap back before she completely lost herself.

It always amazed me how she managed to pull it off. Perhaps a part of her knew better than to completely immerse her soul, her existence in a world that never was, never will.

Fast forward a year or two, and now she's sitting in her dorm room, watching herself in an endless forest. I must wonder how she feels seeing herself in a world so beautiful, so endless, her mind churning with thoughts never conceived before. She has grown much, though its not in body.

It's in mind.

Her mind is beautiful, always thinking, always churning. She thinks of things never thought before, like how much greener the grass looks on a day when the sky is grey, stale, ready to weep. She thinks of how people hate what they are, and she knows they cannot correct themselves. It's simply how the world works.

She dreams of walking through a forest or cityscape, clothing hugging her lightly, as she bounds from place to place, unstoppable, living how she wants to. She lets the music from her ipod make her mind work faster, imagining worlds and stories never thought of before. She writes it down on little notepads, these thoughts that slither 'round her head, her emotions brewing, her heart racing in excitement, despair, and everything in-between.

She is in her own world, walking in ours. And still, she knows when to snap back and behave as if she is like the rest of us. Not that she ever really liked tooting her own horn, and saying that she was different.

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She finishes her latest piece, not quite sure if it's up to snuff yet. She hems and haws, before hitting the "Post New Topic" button, remembering the significance of today. She smiles as she reads it over again, looking back before looking forward, listening to the violins and ticking clock in her ears, crescendos of undying grace.

No matter how scatterbrained it is, or how muttled the thoughts are...

...it's always funny looking back on your life story.