Screams.
Surrounded by them.
Sitting in a corner of her room, just below its window.
Holding on to her knees, in front of her chest, pressed against it.
Dark. It was completely dark.
And lonely.
There were screams, in her head. They were real. She just tried to ignore them.
But she couldn't.
Screams of sadness, of anger, of authority, of threats, of horror.
They were driving her insane.
She led her hands to her face, messy hair and a sticky substance that seemed to be makeup putting on her way.
Then, she tried to stand up. She didn't feel strong enough, so she fell.
Panic.
She tried to stay in control, as she always had. Cool, mysterious her.
Nevertheless, at that moment she was all on her own and she couldn't bear the voices.
So, panic.
Nails trying to rip apart that smooth skin she was once well known for.
All over her.
And blood.
And screams.
In her head.
In her throat.