She looked at the reflective piece of glass, lights dimmed. She saw not her appearance In the mirror, but her. The real her.
Her eye's, lifeless, cold. Stuck in what appeared to be a daze.
Eye bags, prominent. A clear feature on her pale skin.
Skin so pale, almost translucent. Tear streaks flowed down her cheeks, down to her jawline. Her pale complection mirroring her dark, dark mind.
She looked like a ghost.
A mindless soul on autopilot, walking among the people with no direction, no real destination in sight. A mere compass, pointing nowhere yet everywhere.
Her Mind, Erratic. Ignorant of the desperate pleads of help. Quiet, yet busy. Loud voices filled her head, screams. Her mind demanding crazy.
She is but a map who knows its purpose. To direct, and lead to the greater good. But is only lost with no thoughts to be found, nor recovered. No wishes for the end of the trail for gold. Her gold. Her treasure. Her sanity.
How unfortunate for one to loose their treasure.
