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The Forgotten Girl
August 17, 2014
I sigh as I change the song to a new song by Imogen Heap. My father won't care if I come home at midnight so I'll stay here a little longer.
Nobody bothers to say hi. They just nod at me. The closest I will ever come to friendship. The music pulses as something that slightly resembles sadness or yearning flickers but I know that that's impossible. My shrink gave me enough medication to make me numb through a stick being driven through my heart. Oh well. I walk away from the dancing animals nearby.
© Joseph S., San Anselmo, CA
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This article has 2 comments.
DarknessHasFallen GOLD said...
on Sep. 5 2014 at 10:55 am
That's the whole point.
creativewriter144108 SILVER said...
on Sep. 1 2014 at 10:07 am
I need more...this seems as if its unfinished...you should write more..good start though
