NaNoWriMo #1… or something

I don’t have high hopes of completing this task, but I’m going to aim for a vignette a day and see how it goes.
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She leans against the door, foot resting on the frame, one knee just slightly bent. Her black leggings are salted with white swirls – never the other way around for this maudlin soul. Eyes sit deep in pools of thickly lain black liner, accentuating the hint of Asian slant they form at the edge. Her black shirt swallows a petite and fragile frame.

Her head is bowed; she feigns oblivious to the dozen or so teens nearby who rattle on about their inane exploits. She adjusts her satchel on her shoulder, toying with the weight that threatens to slump her stature even further.

Dark black hair frames her pale face. Today, it is loosely braided to one side, with tendrels seeking freedom from their containment. She appears lost in her thoughts, her arms embracing her chest as though comforting her saddened spirit. She waits for no one, acknowledges no one.

An apparition amoung life, her happiness remains locked in the past. And her future is haunted by unresolved hurts housed in scars no one can see.