"I want to be free!"
She screamed at her highest voice, sitting on her bed in a pile of tears. Her palms are so sweaty so was her forehead.
"I want to be free"
she said again, whispering this time.
She was so broken. Upset. Dying. And no one seemed to notice. No one dared to ask her if she was alright. No one cared about her.
Why I hear you say?
Well because she was always smiling. Laughing. So people assumed she was always happy.
But she isn't.
She doesn't want them to know about her problems. She tells herself she'll get better, and soon it will all stop, but then she realizes, that it hasn't. Instead, it gets Worse.
Every night, she would stay up all night, thinking horrible thoughts about herself, and staining tears onto her rosy cheeks. And then, do know what she would do? Oh, you haven't heard worse!
