Forgotten...

A Story by Sherri Thomas

Her body lay still, as if made of glass, staring blankly at the mould growing on the peeling white paint upon the ceiling. Every hair stood like a fine needle from her porcelain skin painted with freckles. Her red, swollen eyes burned each time she blinked the tears away, her weeping remained unheard as she lay there clutching her tear stained pillow. Her gasps for air slowly subdued to steady breaths. Her every scream was ignored, her pleas were silenced, she was placed in a box unable to escape her own torment. She was an indestructible warrior who fought through it all without gaining anymore than a mere scratch. But her heart, her heart was wounded, held together by fading determination. Her injuries were fatal but not physical. Unfixable by doctors, pills or therapists she was forgotten, left to sink into her mind that was full of demons.