cause (something) to move from its proper or usual place
I remember Mia being tall—taller than the other girls in our high school class. She was also very thin, almost fragile. Even her hair was as tall as she—not tall, exactly, but almost as long as her, full of body. It also seemed like it was weighted against her. Mia is intelligent, opinionated, and beautiful—the epitome of what it means to be female—and she knew it. She was the Student Council president, captain of the cheerleading squad, and voted most likely to succeed at her high school graduation—even being awarded with two full scholarships to Yale and Loyola. Mia had everything going for her, in her 5’10, 125 pound, all-American body. Perfect.
Her first year at Yale was the highlight of Mia’s life. Immediately she involved herself in a few of the women science and political organizations on campus. Already making headway with a few of the student body elite, even in her first year of college rendered opportunity, partnerships, and status. The good times she had her last year in high school, paled to her first year in college. Mia often thought of the “good times” in high school, how excited she was when she told me that she got into both of the colleges she dreamed of getting in to. How accomplished she must have felt when she had to choose between the two. Mia was set-up to take on the world.
Now as she sits on the cold bathroom floor, often thinking about what went wrong in her life. What happened? How could everything change so quickly? Then she remembered. It all changed after a meeting, happening only by chance. That one party forever changed her perfect life. He took away her role in her perfect world. She thought of her world as she slowly loosened the tourniquet that hugged her arm, feeling the drug creep sweetly up her arm. A single tear streams down her cheek, and now, though difficult, she will try to dream again about the perfect things that were part of a life, which never happened.