Her hands were pressed firmly against her ears, trying (and failing) to block out the sound, the noise. She pressed them against her ears even more firmly, head screaming for the noise to stop. The shrill cries cutting through the silence like a knife.
No, no, no. No. No!
Her eyes were screwed shut, legs tucked neath her arms, trying to curl into a ball. No, she wanted to disappear, leave everything behind and just...fade into the background. She groaned, tucking her face into her knees, nose pressed between the two knobbly joints. Rocking on the bed, she heard each creak of the spring, the rustling of the mattress, the thump of her feet against the fabric. But it wouldn't shut out the noise - it rang even louder, in fact.
Please, make it stop. I beg you!
Her eyes flicked up to her walls were posters, pictures and magazine clippings were displayed proudly. Her gaze lingered over each page, each photo, each inch covered with picture or paper or plastic. No smile came to her face, no, nothing was okay. Nothing could ever be okay...or would it? Would the next day be better? Would a rainbow shine on her? Pots of gold and leprechauns next? As likely as pigs would fly.
Why? Why won't it stop? Why can't I get rid of this misery?
Footsteps heavy on tiles echoing, then fading. The sound begins to fade, too, finally. She uncurls from her position, wiping away the single tear rolling down her cheek. She turns over and presses her face into her pillow, tired, frustrated, spent. She just wants it to end. For everything to return the way it used to be.
Can I escape? Right here and now?
She screws her eyes shut, forcing her body to sleep. To sleep and take the grief away. In hopes that the next day, tomorrow, she won't remember. She hopes to see smiles, hear laughter and frolic in fields of white lilies. If only. If only tomorrows could be that perfect, she thinks, she wouldn't mind living another day.