Staring into the floor of a four-walled haven for such wretched soul.
As still and as steady as the petrified victims of Medusa's horrifying gaze.
The only differences are the tears that fall.
The fast loud heartbeats.
The deep inhales and exhales of air.
The muffled whining.
A forlorn creature.
Invisible. Inaudible.
Left behind. Pushed around.
Alone. Aching. Breaking.
Then the figure moved.
Wiped tears. Looked around.
Eyes sore. Knelt on the almost soaking wet floor.
Somewhere under the closet, reaching, searching.
Alas! A bottle. Small. Inside- a fluid.
Upside down it went.
Straight into the creature's mouth.
Liquid rushing.
The heat- down the throat, running.
Hands reached for a pen, then a piece of paper.
Hands. Shaking. Writing. A note.
Just when the note ends,
The figure fell.
What surrounds slowly faded, lights seemed to flicker.
Then everything just went dimmer... and dimmer... and dimmer.
