She smiles.
No one sees the brokenness behind the brown facade, she's someone's daughter but yet she feels no love. She cannot see anyone through the darkness that surrounds her. The light has slowly faded until now she sets in a dark empty room of her thoughts, her own mind. She cries out for help but no one has ever heard or understood. There is no support for her, she is left to fend for herself in the dangerous place of her own thoughts. She is never safe nor sound, but always at war with the dark impulses and the thoughts that scare her and shake the very foundation of herself. No, she isn't a crying mess on the floor or in a hospital fit for taking care of her needs; instead she sits at a café table with friends, because no matter how hurt she actually is she continues to smile.
Maybe one day the smile won't have to be fake.