Inner Demons
She sits alone in the cold, damp room.
The only sounds she hears are the occasional door creaking closed and the hum of the air conditioner that never seems to shut off.
She is completely alone and isolated from everyone and everything she holds dear to her heart.
Looking out the window from the perch by her bed, tears streaming down her face
She knows.
She knows that things will never be as they were again.
It is a comforting yet terrifying thought to her.
Out her window she can see the sun beginning to set
And night approaches the courtyard like a doctor approaching a family with dire news.
Slowly,
Imposing,
Night has arrived.
In all its bitter cold and darkness
The night is almost a welcome sight from the happiness that daylight represents
She is not happy anymore.
She is not much of anything anymore.
She cannot even remember the last time she laughed.
She catches her reflection in the dingy mirror across the room and jumps a little
She does not even recognize that person that stares back at her.
The limp, plain brown hair that has begun to fall out in chunks
The pale, dry skin
The sunken eye sockets that no longer have life in them.
She is just a shell of the golden haired, sparkling eyed beauty she once was.
Her life has become disturbingly predictable.
Her weary, tearful eyes see only the same objects and people day in and day out.
She feels like some sort of experiment.
Being kept up locked away in this room.
If only it was to have a romantic ending
Like the princesses she read in fairytales as a little girl
Back in a happier time and place.
She hears the heavy shuffling of footsteps in the hallway coming to get her.
Just like they came to get the others that were here before her.
She knows.
Her time is about to come.
Before they can take her away
Away from the room that has become her home
Away from the last bit of familiarity she can hold on to
She grabs the dulling, rust covered razor she has been hiding from them
And with one last tear slowly falling down her hollowed out ivory cheekbone
She quickly draws crimson from her wrists
Knowing that this time she would succeed
And a smile begins to spread across her cracked and bleeding lips,
For she knows that they can no longer hurt her.
The only sounds she hears are the occasional door creaking closed and the hum of the air conditioner that never seems to shut off.
She is completely alone and isolated from everyone and everything she holds dear to her heart.
Looking out the window from the perch by her bed, tears streaming down her face
She knows.
She knows that things will never be as they were again.
It is a comforting yet terrifying thought to her.
Out her window she can see the sun beginning to set
And night approaches the courtyard like a doctor approaching a family with dire news.
Slowly,
Imposing,
Night has arrived.
In all its bitter cold and darkness
The night is almost a welcome sight from the happiness that daylight represents
She is not happy anymore.
She is not much of anything anymore.
She cannot even remember the last time she laughed.
She catches her reflection in the dingy mirror across the room and jumps a little
She does not even recognize that person that stares back at her.
The limp, plain brown hair that has begun to fall out in chunks
The pale, dry skin
The sunken eye sockets that no longer have life in them.
She is just a shell of the golden haired, sparkling eyed beauty she once was.
Her life has become disturbingly predictable.
Her weary, tearful eyes see only the same objects and people day in and day out.
She feels like some sort of experiment.
Being kept up locked away in this room.
If only it was to have a romantic ending
Like the princesses she read in fairytales as a little girl
Back in a happier time and place.
She hears the heavy shuffling of footsteps in the hallway coming to get her.
Just like they came to get the others that were here before her.
She knows.
Her time is about to come.
Before they can take her away
Away from the room that has become her home
Away from the last bit of familiarity she can hold on to
She grabs the dulling, rust covered razor she has been hiding from them
And with one last tear slowly falling down her hollowed out ivory cheekbone
She quickly draws crimson from her wrists
Knowing that this time she would succeed
And a smile begins to spread across her cracked and bleeding lips,
For she knows that they can no longer hurt her.