She is standing in a room full of people. No one sees her. No one hears her crying. No one notices the tears glistening on her cheeks.
All around her there is laughter, chatting and light. Inside she is an empty shell, crying for what was never there.
Someone brushes past her, they shiver as if they just touched something eerily cold. She cries out at the heat of their slight touch. The pain is too much for her to bear. She tries to escape the laughing, happy room but is stuck, chained in the middle. She is not allowed to escape. She must endure the pain, endure their laughing and taunting.
Her crying eases into helpless sobs as the night draws on. She stopped looking at each person, begging them to see her, to release her, to help her. Instead she accepts her torture. Her head hanging forward, her shoulders slumped. She appears nothing more than a husk. The only thing that could save her was knowing that her soul would depart before she went crazy.
A girl suddenly falls over. It looks like she has fainted. A scream ripples through the crowd of partying people. No one recognises the girl. But they know one thing; she is dead. The girl's skin was so pale some in the crowd thought her a ghost. The girl's hair was such a dark black other's thought she must be a raven who had taken on human form. People guessed who she was, where she had come from. None of them ever thought that she was amongst them the whole time. Not one person even knew that she was crying and in pain. The girl was lost to them. The girl was lost to herself.
