Ten

She stared at the ceiling as though it had suddenly developed a new feature. If there’s anything, she couldn’t actually tell the color. There was an aura of grey around her. It was a fog that wouldn’t rise or fade. A single tear rolled down her temple.

She spun to her side and faced the window. It has been raining all day and Aurora has been in bed for as long as she could remember.

Soon, her face felt terribly wet, as though she was standing in a blowing gale. Her eyes were puffy from crying for the last five days. She was dehydrated, and her entire body was sore. She had tons of good memories that she could never forget even if she tried to. But, how was it that the pain outweighed the treasured memories?

She hates how she was feeling. She hates what she was going through and why she was in that position. The pain was unbearable. The tears rushed down nevertheless, non-stop even after she tried to stop it. No one should be able to cry as much as she had done for the past five days