Celia Hallow Research Papers

Celia Hallow had been a person once, a beauty, you wouldn't think it by the look of her now, but she was once the image of shining youth, the sparkling symbolism of teenage sexuality, a blooming radiant flower in a bed of weeds on the brisk cusp of womanhood and sex. Yes, Celia Hallow was, in her own mind, a queen, the sheer product of vanity and beauty, a celestial vision, a borne model who exuded all the graceful ambiance of a dancer.

By elementary she was the school doll, the most popular, the most liked, the most envied.

By freshman year she was plastic, big green eyes and a perfectly symmetrical, if only slightly angular, face, with high cheekbones and a developed figure still coming into itself. And it was there that she mastered her skills as a puppet master, a story weaver, a woman who could bend the world to her means. Boys were as easy to come by as they were to abdicate. Men were harder, but she liked a challenge, and the free drinks that seemed to find her at every bar; who was to know she wasn't even 16 yet? Her twenties were a blur of men and booze and parties and drugs and sex, one man after another after another in the endless destructive cycle of her youth. She knew why
She thinks of all the passed years, all the years belonging to that foreign girl that she once, all drifting only further away, as if she had never even existed. She could no longer recall all of what she had done in her flaming youth, in her years of romance and teenage angst, she didn’t remember the coffee shop lunches or her ventures in friendship and betrayal. She couldn't even remember the names of her closest friends in high school or her first boyfriend- how inseparable they had once been and how now they meant nothing-. When she closed her eyes she could see her mother's eyes, her aged eyes, the ones that had seen so much, and knew that her eyes held the same desperate