• Darkness. A void so deep and so empty that what was left of her life was sucked into this abyss of anguish. Hardly more than a black wave sliding back into the ocean of fear on a starless midnight. It was as if the fear had actually taken physical form and become boiling black waves made from blood. She wasn’t meant to be pulled from the light any more than a fingernail was meant to be pulled from a finger. And that was why, she was, screaming. But now the screaming was running out. The Jaws of silence gaped from the very throat of this darkness. She wanted to scream, only to make some sound, because sound itself was something to belong to. In fact, it was the acute loneliness that made her quake. She was not meant to be alone. She knew that now, like an eyeball staring at a razor blade closing in knows it’s not meant to be sliced. If only she could scream, her voice would keep her company. If only she could cry, her tears would be a welcome companion. If only she could be seen, really seen in this darkness, she would be understood, and maybe some one would care. But no, this acute loneliness will consume her every move, hiding her more till she breaks and slowly fades away in the darkness that conceals her. Never again to see the light she once held in her palms.