Susan looked over her dress in the mirror, fighting back a sigh. Her friends had finally convinced her to put aside her black mourning clothes and rejoin society. It was high time, she knew. It had been over a year since her family had all been killed in that blasted train crash. But that didn't make it any easier.
She couldn't understand why she felt so guilty. It was Survivor Syndrome, she supposed, or whatever it was that they called it. She couldn't really remember, and honestly didn't care. The fact was that she felt so guilty. And empty. So incredibly empty. There was nothing left for her but herself. And somehow she no longer felt so beautiful and important. Somehow parties and boys had become meaningless, instead of necessities.
She felt the tears coming again, and carefully dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. She had spent a long time on her makeup, and didn't want to ruin it now. Swallowing her sorrow, she turned to answer the knock that sounded on the door. She went out to join her friends, smiling brightly as though she hadn't just been trying to hold back her sobs. They laughed and gossiped as they made their way to the party. Susan giggled and chattered along, pathetically thankful that no one noticed the tears in her eyes.