The shadows creep up. Even with the lights on, there is no escaping them. The T.V. is on because the silence is unbearable. The room stays cluttered; it doesn't feel as empty that way. The bed is covered in every blanket she owns. She wraps herself up tight as if will keep her together, keep her from falling apart.
The hope she once carried flickers inside her...like a candle nearing the end of its wick. She doesn't know what to do or where to turn. She's going in circles, dizzy, sick to her stomach.
Her heart beats. Harder and harder. It hurts. She wants to just rip it out, rip it out and sew herself shut. Maybe then she will feel something, something other than the emptiness.