I have been hiding for so long I can’t remember why I am hiding.
The last time I left this room the clouds rolled in and the sky turned grey. I watched the last remnants of sunlight disappear with an anger as though they were deserting me personally.
The rain never came to wash the ground pure.
I haven’t seen another living soul through the broken windows for three weeks. When I do, I hold my breath so that they cannot hear my thoughts.
The nights are quiet but for the roaring in my head.
Sleep never comes.