The world revolved and evolved around her as she sat quietly on the bed. She stared at the floor, and not out the window. Someone could walk into the room, and she wouldn't know it. She at there on the bed for hours, days, months and sometimes years. Nothing ever changed. Dreams turned nightmares, and nightmares were her reality. Slit wrists were covered with bandages that would never be removed. She sighed as she heard the door open and then close. Was a person leaving, or coming into the room? She would never know. The sun would set and rise again, and she wouldn't have the will to move from the very spot she sat. She had aimed high in life, and then fear took control...But maybe it was something more than fear. No one would ever find out, because she had no voice to sell the secret. She had torn out her tongue in a fit of rage. The room smelled of her. Was it an old smell? She was still young, and yet....She had lived a fast life that drove her to the edge. Her eyes glanced at her wrists, not seeing the bandages. She had fallen, and now she couldn't think why she had. She blinked, and the scene changed. Her bandaged wrists seeped blood. The flow would never stop. The door scraped open again.....Who was taking care of her? Those thoughts came to her in moments of clarity Had she eaten today? She licked her lips, she was thirsty. Thirsty? She closed her eyes as she began to feel numb again. She opened her eyes to see the moon. Should she howl?? She began to laugh, and then cry. She began to hear noises and voices and the scraping of the door again. Her eyes not seeing anyone enter the room. There was a feeling that someone was there....the feeling was always there. And yet...she was alone. The noises stopped almost as sudden as they had come. The pain she felt....subsided..and then returned...her bandages cleaned...numbness would return...She closed her eyes again, only to open them finding herself in a different place. The noises almost overwhelmed her. She stepped out of the Subway train and into the city streets. It was always the same....the scraping of the door.