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For most people, night time is meant to sleep. For her, night time can be both dreadful and peaceful. The night is quiet, bringing her mind power to think. The demons she struggles to fight in her mind throughout the day are welcomed by the dark sky and the sleeping people. There is nothing to distract her mind. Nothing to make her sleep. Everything she avoids, all at once. She breaks down, crying silently. Feeling nothing but pain, she chooses a different strategy to distract her. She does what she never did before. She does what she grew up being told not to. She grew up being told that if you do that, you would be considered emo, psycho, or spoiled. She doesn't care anymore. She was so strong for so long. The next day, as she fears for the night to come, people wonder why she wears a long sleeved sweater in the middle of June.
"Fake smile, sad eyes, scratched wrists, scratched thighs."
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