∞ Chapter 8 ∞

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She looks broadly upon her mirror at her reflection. She tries to love what she sees. She tries to see beauty. She doesn't. She tries to smile.. with an actual smile. Not a smile she uses to make the world believe she is okay. Not the smile she uses to try to make people see that she can be happy. Not a smile out in the void of darkness. The smile that doesn't mean a thing. She wants to actually be happy. She wants to believe that her life will be okay. But she can't. Since day one she's been here she's never really smiled with an actual smile and that not only scares the people of Dreamless but herself as well. Coming into this world saved her from the real pain in the real world. Although she seems like a strong confident independent woman .. she's sadly not. She can be strong. She can be tough. But once she's alone. Once she knows no one is around to see her broken heart. Her red wet eyes. Her tears rolling down her hot red cheeks. Her throat feeling like she's swallowing a golf ball when she hears something she doesn't want to hear. She breaks.
"Tears are a waste." She says to her reflection.
"Nobody cares. They're just a shout in an empty dark void that you're not okay and that you need help !" She slaps her palm on the wall.
"You don't need help." She says softly. "Nobody can help you ! You don't need anybodys pity.. you're okay ! You're okay ! You're okay ! As long as they think that you are and you think that as well, then you are !" She snatches a bottle of water off her desk and pours it down her throat to be rid of the golf ball stuck in her throat that causes her voice to crack. She drinks it until the whole bottle is empty and turns around on her heel to throw it into the grabage can.
She misses.
She doesn't care.
Right by the garbage can there was her dress layed out on her bed.
She walks over to it slowly.
She caresses it up and down feeling the black silk.
She then takes it by the hanger and walks over to the bathroom to try it on.
As she walks out, she looks at her reflection in the mirror.
She likes what she sees.
"Can you be my nightingale ?" She whispers to herself her old favorite song that once meant so much to her.
"Say you'll be my nightingale."
She slaps one of her fake smiles across her face and walks out the door for dinner.

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