Her grief stricken face strikes people as amusing. Her ratted and frizzy golden brown hair makes people snicker. The teary furious look in her eyes that blaze like flames in a brick fireplace makes people tremble and look away. For once, when she smiled and laughed, no one stared, no one laughed and no one built rumor upon rumor on her worn and stitched up heart. How long was this going to last? How long until it ended? So many questions lay unanswered, so many answers with no questions to attach to. That night her blazing eyes were hollow and lifeless as she set aflame the sketches and photos that hung on her wall. Flickering red and orange light closed in on her, and she felt warm and at peace for the first time. Like nothing was going to reach her safe haven of flames. That morning she wasn't in her seat, the front where she could see even without her glasses, or her lonely lunch table, where no one even bothered to sit or look at…until today when everyone came to the burial and stared at her flowing hair and burn marks disappear with a click and never to be seen again. That’s when they realized who she was, remembered all her moments, all her talents, all her promises. They remembered she was their friend, kind and nonjudgmental. Accepting people for their lightest and darkest side, no matter how bad or good. She was the angel that fell far from heaven to descend upon she-devils and players of fate’s ugly game, to reassure the worried, mend the broken and save the dying. No one could ever forget her, yet they did, and she was hurt…but no one was there to help her, yet she was there for everyone. She ran out of time, her hourglass stopped short and shattered, but no one noticed, she was unnoticeable, and forgotten. In the end it was one for all and none for one.