If anyone were listening to her.
Some people are lucky enough to live their lives, while not necessarily happily, but under some form of contentment - existing in some relative form of happiness and going about their day. Some people even find true happiness, some without material pleasures, simply enjoying being themselves and understanding the gift that has been given to them. And some people feel like they're inside a well that they can't crawl out of, the walls are just too high.
Inside that well they can see the sky, a tiny portion of it set against the dark walls of their prison, they can see happiness and it feels so far away. It's like a separate reality; because after years and years of making their hands bleed scraping them off the walls, they just don't have the strength anymore. They can't pull themselves up and as more and more crap rains down on them they drown in it, because no one can hear them.
For some people they live in a glass box with a big fucking smile painted on their faces, their mouths pulled painfully into some semblance of happiness, and people walk past and smile back. They're laughing and laughing, but they're crying and no one can hear their screams, just see those fucking smiles. And they try and they try and they try, but no one can see past those carved on imitations of happiness and it isn't their fault. But inside the box, screaming and screaming they watch as people smile and go on, and be happy without ever understanding what they're doing.
And no one gives enough of a damn to look closer, to see the scars and the pins and the forced happiness. But they can't help it; because the perpetually content are unable to comprehend the lives of those suffering unless it is pasted on the television with orphans. There will never be a campaign to raise money for the teenage girl stuck in the glass box, or the middle aged man trapped in that well because the damage they do to themselves is hidden, not displayed.
It isn't until there is nothing left of them that people take notice, only when it is too late to do anything. Only then does someone look at the girl's scarred face, and the logical conclusion they come to? Will usually be that it is her fault. That she didn't ask for help sooner.
But she couldn't!! She was trapped and screaming the whole time, begging but they couldn't hear her. Her body was bound and she sat inside that box waiting and praying for someone to help her but no one did.
For some people their days are mixed. Some days are okay, some are terrible and some are fantastic. They suffered the usual teenage experience but came through it as everyone does and it passed. They tell their children that it always passes, but the girl in the glass box would disagree.
If anyone were listening to her.
Inside that well they can see the sky, a tiny portion of it set against the dark walls of their prison, they can see happiness and it feels so far away. It's like a separate reality; because after years and years of making their hands bleed scraping them off the walls, they just don't have the strength anymore. They can't pull themselves up and as more and more crap rains down on them they drown in it, because no one can hear them.
For some people they live in a glass box with a big fucking smile painted on their faces, their mouths pulled painfully into some semblance of happiness, and people walk past and smile back. They're laughing and laughing, but they're crying and no one can hear their screams, just see those fucking smiles. And they try and they try and they try, but no one can see past those carved on imitations of happiness and it isn't their fault. But inside the box, screaming and screaming they watch as people smile and go on, and be happy without ever understanding what they're doing.
And no one gives enough of a damn to look closer, to see the scars and the pins and the forced happiness. But they can't help it; because the perpetually content are unable to comprehend the lives of those suffering unless it is pasted on the television with orphans. There will never be a campaign to raise money for the teenage girl stuck in the glass box, or the middle aged man trapped in that well because the damage they do to themselves is hidden, not displayed.
It isn't until there is nothing left of them that people take notice, only when it is too late to do anything. Only then does someone look at the girl's scarred face, and the logical conclusion they come to? Will usually be that it is her fault. That she didn't ask for help sooner.
But she couldn't!! She was trapped and screaming the whole time, begging but they couldn't hear her. Her body was bound and she sat inside that box waiting and praying for someone to help her but no one did.
For some people their days are mixed. Some days are okay, some are terrible and some are fantastic. They suffered the usual teenage experience but came through it as everyone does and it passed. They tell their children that it always passes, but the girl in the glass box would disagree.
If anyone were listening to her.