She is told to just go for it. Go to everything that has an open invitation. She wonders how she'll survive when she's already drowning. There's no hand to pull her up, no soul nearby to walk her through it. Who will help her?
She sits alone, on the verge of tears. Her night has taken a turn for the worse. Everyone is having fun around her. She longs to get up and join, but she can't get past what has happened. Who will help her?
She once again sits alone, not about to cry though. She is saving two seats for her friends. Only one joins her, and they leave together. Neither one was acknowledged by anyone else for the entire hour. She hops in her car alone and cries on the way back to school. Who will help her?
She changes plans last minute and leaves. She heads to the East where solitude awaits. Welcoming arms, more than friendly smiles, and an ear that will listen. No more tears, no more anger, she is finally relaxed. But all too soon it is time to go back to reality. Who will help her?
She is fifty miles out, and the thoughts pour in. Anger seeps through every pore, and sadness follows. The events from the weekend play in her head over and over again, each time more vivid than the last. She tries to stop it from happening, but the mind is not easily escapable. Who will help her?
She is fading. She is broken. She is invisible.
