Near me sits a girl with bright store-bought kool-aid colored red hair, pulled in pigtails. Her shirt is black, belt is studded, and jeans are rather purposefully worn with holes and bleach stains. She currently dons a silk scarf about her face, tied like a bandit, knit with jolly rogers across its surface. She has all of the makings of a high school aged tim burton/invader zim/nightmare before christmas fan, except that she’s probably twenty-six. At least.
