She anxiously tugs at her sleeve with her left hand, her right scratches nervously at her neck. She slowly saunters toward the one seat in her empty apartment, a rocking chair. There was no cushion. The hard cold splintery wood; she felt she deserved nothing more. She rocked, and rocked, and her thoughts began to carry her to an even darker place then where she sat. She thought of her life, so absent from love that she simply blocked everyone who might have cared out. Deception and betrayal is all she’s ever known.

So she sits, and rocks, and lets her life dwindle in her existence. She is barely a flame in a world of fire; in a world of pain. Her thoughts bring her to her days of youth and a tear gradually begins to fall, leaving a moist trace on her skin, scarred from so much scratching. She remembers her teachers, her friends, and her life. Teachers she barely noticed, friends she didn’t let get too close, and tattered memories of a life barely lived. Why let anything get more than a glance when she had never had anything more herself?

She remembers her job. The job she didn’t have any more. She thought she could do it. But the faces she would walk past every day, the smiles, the introductions, were all just too much. They were empty promises that wouldn’t be kept, that had no truth, and she would not be tortured by it. She remembers the last day she made the decision to tear herself from home, just to trek that journey to work. She knew it would be her last. She remembers looking everyone in the eye, in their deep antagonizing, smiling eyes. She remembers waiting at home, waiting for that call, from someone, anyone, asking where she was. Why hadn’t she been in? It never came. No one had noticed her absence. No one showed enough concern; she was easily replaceable; unimportant.

She remembers that night. The feelings she felt; depression, angst, nostalgia. Her thoughts began to ponder even younger days, the days of her family, when she lived at home. She cursed herself for the things that happened there; abuse, divorce, abandonment. She suddenly thrust herself back to the present. No longer could she think of the past. She no longer had to face relationships. She had none. She stayed, locked in her apartment, locked away from the world and its people. She no longer had hope that people would change, that they would care. She didn’t want too. She didn’t want to try and be left with failure. Failure always brought more destruction.

She looked out the window, people starting to fill the streets, it was six o’clock. She willed herself to walk toward the window. Her left hand began scratching at her arm. She grabbed her hand with her right and placed it on the thick curtain and willed her hands to shut it. She turned her back to the wall and threw herself in a seated position on the cold tile floor. The only routine she held in this place; closing the curtain before six. She was late today. Her hands began scratching at her calves, her thighs, her arms and neck. She began throwing her head into the wall. She was a failure. She began to feel as though she couldn’t even follow a simple routine. Her tears began to multiply and thoughts of suicide leaked in.

Her eyes glanced around the small room. She stood and began to wander, her eyes searching everywhere for a possible weapon. She frowned and took a seat on her chair, thinking. She didn’t know how she could do it this time. She wondered if she would even be able to follow through if she had found a decent weapon. Thoughts of her failure to commit seeped in and now her emotions were exploding. In an instant she was angry, angry at everything, angry at herself. Suddenly, her legs picked her up and walked her to the door. Her right hand grabbed for the knob and she became angrier with the struggle. She could not open the door. She looked for the lock, it was gone.
Her nails became raw and bloody as she began scratching at the door. She couldn’t be here anymore. She wanted to be at home, she wanted to be cuddling with her mother and father. She wanted to be watching Sleeping Beauty and be falling asleep in both her parents’ arms. She wanted everything to be like it was, so many years ago. Her ears heard ringing and it wasn’t long before she knew it was her own screams. She wanted out. She ran back to the corner of the room and sat, pulling her knees up and rocking back and forth, sobbing at yet another failure. She cried out for her mother and her father and her childhood. But no one answered her screams.
Her ears began ringing again. She closed her mouth, but the ringing became more intense. She looked up, everything was so blurry. She saw two figures in white running towards her and her heart started pounding in her ears. They were coming for her. The creatures pinned her against the wall and her terror ignited. She looked at the open door, blurry beings looking in, watching her, watching her being attacked, and doing nothing. Adrenaline rushed as one of them pulled her soaking hair out of her eyes and she saw the creatures more clearly. Her eyes burned with the saltiness of her continuous tears. She was still fighting them off when she realized they were nurses. She began screaming and shouting.
She had no clue where she was anymore. The walls to the room that she was in began to shrink and close in on her, and she became more frightened. Her adrenaline started to rise as the realization hit. Her eyes found the window. There were bars from the outside. Her eyes searched for the rocking chair. All they found was a hard metal bed. She looked at the tile floor. It became hard rubber. Her head fell and her vision began to fade. She sank into a world of darkness.