I live in the world where I was dragged from my parents and forced to live with my grandmother for the rest of my childhood.
The childhood that was washed away with the waves that would never return home, or ever see a bright side to anything. I try to get away.
I try to get away from the pain. The agonizing pain of loss and depression. the depression that continues to worsen every time I think. I sink deeper into the dark pits of myself. the places that no one should discover.
For if they discover them, they will find the real me. Hidden away from the world, crying until my voice runs raw and weak. My screams like a whisper on the wind through the darkened, echoless caverns, so quiet that no one can hear it. If they discover this, they will come upon the voice I once had, now shriveled up and dehydrated like a dead leaf on the sidewalk. Expecting it's certain death. Encouraging it.
But it never comes.
