Hidden World

A thin sliver of light shines through the doorway, she had left the door open just a crack. Not enough to allow anyone to see through, not quite enough for her to see out. If you could see in you would see that her blankets are covered in wet splotches from catching her tears. Kleenex is scattered across the bed and there are perfect imprints from where her black eyelashes touched the covers and left marks. If you could see in you would see her biting down on her bottom lip, suppressing the screams of anguish that long to escape her. If you could see in you would see the way she grips her pillow, as if she were clinging to life itself. If you could see in, you would see her confused face, you could watch her as she wonders. If one learns to endure physical pain, will emotional pain hurt less? Will it be easier to become like stone? If you could see in, you would see her staring blankly at the mirror, and in her eyes you might be able to glimpse the distorted image that stares blankly back. She feels her last meal rotting inside her and knows how relieving it will feel to throw it all up. There's a sliver of light that shines through her doorway. Not quite enough for anyone to see in.