No clue

I can hear the echo,
of her pen tapping on her seat,
so eagerly waiting,
for that last bell to ring.

I can see the sadness in her eyes,
before she turns her head to the floor,
It's an all too familiar feeling..
not caring anymore.

I can feel the loneliness in her heartbeat,
as she hurries down the hall,
and no one looks up,
no one notices her at all.

I can feel her pace quicken,
as she runs across the road,
heading to her house,
most certainly not a home.

I can hear the anger,
in her mother's escalating voice,
and I feel her sobs,
muffled for no noise.

I can smell his breath,
I can feel her wince,
when the man with the whiskey,
takes away all remaining innocence.

I can feel the fear,
in those eyes that gaze,
out the frosted window,
to any other place.