“Heaven help her”,
They cried as their hands clambered and jostled to touch her face, her hair, her arms.
“Pray for her”,
They whispered as they turned their beseeching eyes towards the insignificant figure before them.
They stretch her.
Desiccate every drop out of her.
Behind her guise,
She would weep silent tears,
Tear at her hair.
Lament at the labyrinth that is her mind.
She became unspecified.
But she wasn’t naive.
She knew she was at her nadir.
Round and round her mind went.
Pressure built up until it was raring to go.
To explode.
To release the fiery heat that was scorching her very skull.
She longed for stability,
Even translucency would have been favoured.
This was the girl.
The shadow of a girl.

The girl they called Pariah.