Waking Death.
It's those few moments when you seriously consider that your existence is useless. I've been getting those feelings more and more as of late. I'm walking past piles of rubble, sand in my shoes, the hem of my dress is dirtied with mud. I don't want to come back here. I don't want to go to my house. I can't even summon the energy to get a glass of water. It's useless. I stood in the middle of the cleared desert, white and angry. I can feel the sun beating down on me. I smell the governess. It's the scent that makes me think twice about dying. Something is trying to call me back, and I sense it hasn't forgotten about me. No matter how long I'll be gone, it will always take me back and we will know each other once more. I'll be back soon enough.