She sits in one corner of the room, on the cold hardwood floor huddled as small as she can get. That's her bodys way of making her dissapear from everything. Her knees drawn into her chest and arms wrapped around them, head down and straining not to cry. She's a big girl, there's no reason to cry... but it's a struggle anyway. No lights are on. No sound is playing out, except for forceful sniffling. Her mouth is a drawn thin line, hard and colourless. Her eyes are shut so tight, so tight and hard it's starting to hurt. Her jaw won't stop clenching and unclenching in a nervous kind of way. She can't do it. The magazines over on the night table screaming images of perfection at her and she can't do it. The tv in the next room attempts to beam what it can directly into her skull, and she can't do it. No one gets asked what they want to be when they're 19 do they? They just sort of get told, don't they? They just get asked what they want when they ‘grow up', whatever that means. Not that you ever get that anyhow. So with dark patches on her clothes where tears have fallen off her face, she sits in the corner only slightly rocking back and forth, waiting and waiting for it to just go away. Just go away. Just go away. Go away go away, come again some other day, little girlie wants to play.
‘Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?' someone has asked her once. Maybe it was a mellow songwriter who had said it. Maybe a friend who didn't know what else to say. Hard to remember when you can't think much other than go away. The spooks in the closet that aren't at all her own rattle around and make her shake all over. They can damn well go away too. So can the bloody doctors, and the fakes, and the liars and the cheaters. And the relatives, and the naysayers, and the big ugly black monsters that really do exist and live out in the real world as much or more than she does.
Go away.

I wish things were different. I wish there weren't monsters. I wish people could see straight when someone is suffering. Maybe they could even be a little selfless for once too, maybe they could give someone a big warm hug. Not much really equals the warmth of a hug when someone means it. Maybe they could start down a different road. Maybe they could take back that walk on part and just throw away the cage. Maybe. But past all that, past everything except for go away, there's one thing that remains.

I wish I was there, or that you were here. I really do.

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