Tears

She'd always seen tears as perfect, like droplets of emotion and soul all merged into one small splash. Now- she realized- tears were far from perfect. Each time a tear formed, only to roll down her reddened skin, she felt each little piece of her heart and soul slip away- gone forever. As they rolled down her petite nose to her plump lips she tasted the fear, loneliness and desperation contained within each little bead. The bittersweet sting of tears seemed never- ending. She would surround herself with people, try to become immersed in work and forget, and it did work. That amnesia was short lived as waves of pity, loathing and excruciating loneliness washed over her- heart and soul. Her loneliness became apparent. Persistent. Gnawing away at her very being, forcing her to acknowledge it as it coursed through her veins, piercing into her all too fragile bones. Now she was merely an empty shell, the ghost of who she used to be surrounding her, gloating at her weakness. She had to keep up her façade. For everyone.

At night, though, she couldn't hold them back, her eyes brimming as they formed in her tingling eyes. The night was always the worst. All guards were down, there was no one to be strong for, she had stopped caring for herself well long ago. She had become that good at deceiving people when it came to her emotions, she began to believe her own deception. They would spring from her eyes and burst forth, salty and hot. If tears were to represent emotion- whatever it may be- why did she feel void. Empty. Lifeless.

But then she knew...

She had to be strong for them, she couldn't make them worry about her. She had to keep the mask on, walls up. She had to be strong for them, for the guild- she had to. Whether or not she believed herself to be was irrelevant. In her eyes she was pathetic and weak, but she couldn't allow herself to let anyone know. She don't know when she began to feel this way or, for that matter, when she would stop- if ever- but until then she continued to blend in to the background. She carried on going, forcing herself to participate in the 'necessary' idle chatter, so as not to arouse suspicion. She carried on smiling, though it never quite reached her eyes. Once chocolate brown orbs brimming with emotion and hope, now they always remained the same, dull, grey, void- filled only with fear for the night, which she knew was destined to come. At some point, even her dreams abandoned her. She found herself unable to conjure up nightmares- even. It was not as if she was expecting to sleep. After time cracks began to appear in her façade. She was rendered useless when it came to keeping the melancholy looks at bay. She was left with expressions as blank as the grey sky that seemed to linger perpetually above her.

No matter how bad it got she had to keep going. It worsened everyday but she remained true to her goal, 'just appear to be strong, they can't know.'

They can't...