How would you like to be the girl that's never given the time of day? The girl no one pays much attention to? That is, until the day she finally lets go. She snaps- and who can really blame her? If you only knew how much s*** she's had to put up with, how much it takes out of her just to keep going, day by day. The nights are cold when life is hell; she knows this, and protects herself as best she can against the world and the pain that each new dawn brings. But it's never quite enough, never good enough for all of the people in her life that know nothing of her suffering (she keeps it hidden so very well, you see...) she keeps the pain inside because there's no one out there who truely understands. No knight in shining armor, no fairy tale ending for this girl. She takes what she can get and never asks for more. She gives her all in every little thing, especially when her friends are involved. These "friends", they rarely ever treat her right, but she would take a bullet for them if push came to shove. True friend- ask anyone, she's the best at giving advice. Does anyone really know why? No, they don't ask, they don't care, they don't worry. When she dares to show them her pain, they think she's faking. They call her ungrateful because she complains a little. They criticise her because she tries to reach out. And when all is said and done, and the dust settles, they wonder why she never did really reached out. Every time she'd try, they'd tell her she shouldn't. They'd call it stupid, tell her to stop playing around. But was she playing? How can they really be so sure? They know her better than she knows herself, apparently. So her blood is on their hands; they are the ones to blame for the terrible ending to this story. This was not her fault, never in her intentions. She never asked for this life, but when she tries to take some kind of control over it, they punish her because this is not allowed. Adult since the age of two, but not allowed to make her own decisions anymore, when she might actually be capable of making responsible ones. They picked up where her mother left off; they keep her deep down under in the depths of depression, the light at the surface invisible to her; there is no end in sight. She is lost with no possibility of return.

Could you imagine having to go through even one day feeling as she does? And this weight, this pressure, is a constant thing for her; it exists 24/7, whether she likes it or not. She's just learned to deal with it because really what choice does she have? She has none- any control is nothing but an illusion. She keeps quiet and her reward is a pat on the head for shuttting up and not causing any trouble. The ones that don't even care are the ones that get worried about, the ones that get help. She needs help, even more than they do, but she can't come out and bluntly tell them that, so they pay her no more attention then they absolutely have to. That's how it always is, isn't it? No one is strong enough to come straight out and say something that's so serious, so life-changing in and of itself. That's why she can't just say it; she would turn her entire world up-side down with just those simple words of surrender, of admission. As unstable as her life had always been, she can't let go of the only thing she's ever known. That would be admitting that she no longer has any control over herself, that she is almost beyond help. This situation has become a tradgedy; she's now on a crash course, a route that she can't break away from. Usually, in a good story, this would be the moment at which her luck would take a turn for better, and our heroine would be swept off her feet by Prince Charming, who would whisk her away to his castle to live happily-ever-after. But is that ever really the end to any story? No, life goes on for the young maiden, even though the Prince makes living each day a little easier than it used to be. She does love him, he has swept her away like debris in a flood, but love is not always enough, nor does it solve every problem. So she must still go on and continue moving through life, but he gives her something to look forward to, a reason to live.

She tries. She tries to feel better, for him, for everybody. She never completely succeeds in feeling happy, not even in the best situations, the most exciting moments. There is always that nagging feeling in the depths of her subconscience, the one that says, "You can't be happy; you can never lead a normal life. Don't fool yourself." But is she really made a fool for trying to believe there is something better in life, even for people such as herself? Is hope really as pointless as it seems? She mulls this over, chews on it day after day; it leaves a bad taste in her mouth. Like poison, it flows through her veins. It circulates until it becomes the only thing left in her, a ball of hate and hurt burning brightly just beneath the surface. She struggles to control her emotions, keep her face even. In the wake of reality, her dreams come to her rescue; they keep her from plunging down beyond any recovery. They are a life preserver in the middle of the hurricane. She is lost when suddenly, reality begins to become better than her dreams. She is taking a leap of faith, stepping outside of her comfort zone, and she can only hope that he will do the same for her, as he has promised time and time again. Her defenses have been let down, and a set back at this point might prove to be fatal- she now has nowhere to turn to, nothing to fall back on. Her dreams begin to fade and dissipate almost as suddenly as they occur. Her day to day life, her reality, becomes lucid like her dreams, her hopes for a better future, used to be. She begins living in the moment as it happens, no longer troubling herself with what might be, trying to keep her mind from thoughts of past experiences, for dwelling in the past brings only more pain and sorrows.

Music. It defines her life better than she ever could herself. The singers, the rappers, the say it like they know. Some of them do, some just say it to sell their s***. They talk like they know, when really they have no idea. They are an insult to people like her that have to put up with life on their own- totally independent. She listens to the same songs over and over again because they actually mean something. She knows the sorrows; she wishes for the happy endings. Its like a drug to her; it's just as addicting and just as dangerous, but no one sees the threat it poses until it's too late, and her hopes are up, and her guard is down. She does things every now and then to take away some of the pain, but it only dulls it for a little while; it never entirely disappears, and she doesn't abuse anything because she knows, she's seen it first hand, it doesn't help. So she turns to the pain instead; she uses it to take herself away for a while, to help her not to hurt so badly emotionally. It's unhealthy, and maybe she's only making things worse for herself in the long run, but for the moment, it helps, so she does it anyways. She thought she had control, and at first maybe she did, but the situation has slipped out of her grasp. She can't keep hold of it.

The manic-depressive way that she acts, it's not her fault; she tries to be okay, to feel better than she really does. The best thing she can manage to do is absolutely nothing. If she screams and cries and throws things like she wants to, they'll know something's wrong. One minute, she's fine, and the next, she's seconds from breaking for good. The breaking point is fast approaching... Can she be saved? Will you save her? Is it already too late? Time is the lock, and patience is the key.