Fame: the game that has no winners

          She ran up the stairs, her breath coming in quick, short puffs. She could hear yelling behind her, and people clambering up the stairs after her. She wildly ran down the hallway only thinking of one thing. Safety. Safety from them. Safety from their murmers and their cameras and their spectulating faces. When she finally made it to her room, she flung open the door and banged it shut. Behind her they pounded on the door. They told her to open up. To just give them a smile and a secret and they'd be on their way. She didn't trust them any more. She learned the hard way to never trust the papparazzi. Once their voices quieted, and they left the hallway, she sighed with relief and flopped onto the bed. Before she knew it, tears were cascading down her face. She willed herself not to cry. This was the life she chose wasn't it? This is the life she wanted, right? Even though she tried to convince herself that she liked all the attention, deep down she knew it wasn't true. A memory floated to the front of her mind. A memory of an easier time. A better time when her world was at ease. 
         
          She and her sister were sitting at the dining room table. The table was littered with mail, report cards, and toys, but in between the chaos there was her and her sister. They had Uno spread out in front of them. Both of them were trying in vain to peak at the others deck. 
          "Uno!," her sister cried. 
          "Dang-it," she muttered 
          They both only had one card left, and she had the sinking suspision that her sister was going to win. 
          "BOOM!," her sister yelled, "I won the game. Now you owe me ice cream." 
          "Alright, alright, fine." 
          Later that day they went out for ice cream and had a great time teasing each other and laughing. 

          The memory faded away and she was dropped back into reality. She longed for the days when it was just her and her sister and her simple life. They used to be so close and now she can't even remember the last time they talked. 
         There was a knock on the door. 
          "Hey Elle, it's me," her security guard said, "You have to be at your interview building in 10 minutes" 
          She gave a heavy sigh and dragged herself off the bed. She fixed her makeup in the bathroom and put on her "camera face". It was the face she put on to hide her pain from the rest of the world. To show everyone that she was "perfectly, perfectly fine". 
          Her security guard escorted her out the hotel, back into the rest of the world. 
          
          Back into the life of fame.