There is a sadness within everyone. Regret, guilt, broken hearts, whispers of happy memories now gone. Those people, however, also have joy.
And then there are the people who don't. They aren't sad in somecases. They aren't happy, either. They just aren't really anything. Just numb.
Athalie Brendon was one such person. It was in her eyes the first time I saw her, those empty pools of obsidian were the mirror to her soul. And it was closed off.
It was in how she dressed, as though she didn't care whether she was seen as a beauty queen or a goth.
It was in her walk, even, the closed off, steady pace. Not slow and lingering, but not quick as if she had better things to do.
Athalie Brendon was numb. And I loved her more than I had ever loved anyone. Anything. More than the world, more than a million dollars, I just wanted to see her smile.