She was sitting on an armchair in the dimly lit room. With her legs tucked under her. Wrapped in a warm, downy wool blanket which seemed to bring her no comfort at all. Most people would think she was relaxing but her ridged postured hinted something else, something darker. Her slim fingers clutched desperately to a cup of tea which she had yet to drink from. Her eyes gazed unblinkingly toward the window, her expression so empty,  it seemed as though she had ceased breathing.

It was a truly lovely day. While nature always delighted her before, she couldn’t bring herself to appreciate the world after what the seemingly cruel universe had done. The sky was light blue, spotted with fluffy white clouds that slowly drifted across it, freely, without any worries. Blinding rays of sun shot through the rustling tree leaves casting shadows all over the yard. The warmth of the sun caressed the surface of the window, brightening her face but doing nothing to dull the ache inside her.

Sometimes, she contemplated running away, but always quickly chided herself for it.

Although a part of her acknowledged that life needed to go on, some of her just wanted to shout at the world until her voice was horse.  Scream and scream and scream so the world would understand her pain, so she could pretend that it didn’t happen, so the world could understand that what it did was wrong, and she wasn’t going to take any of it. But then she would realize that screaming wouldn’t accomplish anything, shouting wouldn’t undo anything, all she could do was sit in that armchair, in the dimly lit room.