She walks,
Down the tattered hall.
She hears the laughter,
She sees the fingers of those who point dead at her.

She drifts,
Through her five classes.
Head down, cowering from her old friends.
Eyes closed tight, she has memorized her path through the halls.
Feet moving swiftly as she leaves.

She runs,
Off the bus, avoiding the crowd.
Avoiding the snickers,
She runs home to safety.

She hides,
In her room, craving silence.
Crying,
Shaking, hands grasping the bright red tablets
Contemplating the choice she will have to make.

The next morning,
She doesn't walk the tattered halls,
Doesn't drift from class to class,
Doesn't glide off the bus to return home.

She rests,
Under a simple willow tree.
Nothing but a memory to the few who loved her.

That tree is now dead
The leaves have fallen.
Now only a brother remains
One who knows that
Those who say “sunshine brings happiness”
Have never danced in the rain.