The cap of my once pretty blue pen has been destroyed by my nervous teeth. I stare blankly at the four bare walls that seem to be closing in on me. The ground is harder now than I remember. Not even the music will satisfy the empty space growing within my soul. To love, or not to love? I look into the mirror on the wall and hate what I see. Cold, empty eyes that stare mockingly back at me. Tears stream endlessly down my pale skin. Anger tears at me from inside. A fire that kills. A scream that will not cure. Judging eyes that follow me wherever I go. I cannot escape. I cannot hide. They do not forget. A useless, worthless piece of trash. Wispy hair and cold, empty eyes. Open wounds that will not mend. The laughter is gone. A pool of crimson reaches across the floor. But this is not over.
It never ends.