There Once Was A Girl, Who Lived in a Fake World - Short Story

There once was a girl… who lived in a fake world.

Not like fake smiles or plastic promises—

I mean everything was fake. Everyone around her?

Actors. Liars. Wearing faces that weren’t theirs.

Struggling to remember their lines…

Like they forgot she could see right through them.

She was a good person. Happy.

Hopeful. Full of wonder.

But they were snakes. Two-faced.

Playing roles. Lying to her face like it was some kind of joke.

And to them, it was.

She was the only one real in the entire show.

They laughed at her pain.

Mocked her failures.

Hell—they caused the failures.

And then cheered from the sidelines while she tried to stand back up.

Her world? Designed. Built for her.

Every detail—fake.

Her apartment? Given by a “friend.”

Her landlord? Planted.

Even her girlfriend was an actor.

Walked out when she couldn’t pretend anymore.

She fell into a depression…

Looked for help.

Instead, they handed her drugs—

Just to see what she’d do.

Just to laugh.

These people thought they were gods.

But they were just cowards in costume.

You know what hurt most?

Even the drug dealers were fake.

Selling like it was a movie set,

Didn’t even know the terms.

Just props in the script.

She thought, “If this isn’t real… then nothing is.”

Eric Johnson.

Yeah, that was his name.

But who was he? A faker? An actor?

Some twisted version of Sherlock?

Do they throw roses when the scene ends?

Do they shout “Bravo!” when she breaks?

She was the entertainment.

But if they’d do it to her…

What do you think they’d do to you?

Nobody told her.

Nobody whispered a warning.

Nobody slipped her a note under the table.

They all knew.

That’s the part that haunts you.

They all knew.

And they just watched.

The so-called “good” people?

Worse than the villains.

At least the villains didn’t pretend to care.

A real person would’ve spoken up.

She would have.

She would have told someone the truth.

Even if it cost her everything.

And now… she’s still there.

In that room.

Praying for a real friend.

Just one.

So be that friend.

You still can.

Because it’s never too late…

To be real.