Blank, worried stares along side the cluttered, lingerie infested isles. "Katie are you okay?" Tears gushed from her Hazel eye ball sockets. "N-no, I just don't feel well." Then she glanced at the harsh texted words. She rushed into the bathroom to compose herself. In the mirrored reflection of her 'not self,' her thoughts flew out of her ears, circulating above her golden locks. Whether or not the agony caused hallucination is questionable. What was written in bold red letters is "I feel that I deserve to be alone..." The trembling hands were obnoxious. The pulsating heart pounded her chest like a butcher and his rib-eye. Anxiety streamed through veins of Safire. She thought aloud--no one deserves to be alone. And then to herself--If alone is the answer then I should have the privilege. If that was the case, she would, yet again, be stranded in the centered most point of the Sahara Desert. Abandoned. Without her camel. Without her canteen. It didn't. It didn't happen, but what if it had? Then, shatter, shatter! Glass on the hollow tiles. A faded fossil due to years of erosion. A dagger piercing the once known Sense and Sensibility. The ceased pulse drowned into the depths of the Mediterranean black sea.
