The First Week
This world - hateful; cruel- it was dark, so very dark. The dark could shrink, could tighten in on you. The dark, an intangible, impalpable being, it could kill you. With your own hands. But she was the light, so she had been told. She was the light, and she would shine brightly. Enough for everyone. Enough for her friends.
She could shine for them at least.
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The Second Week
The dark was griping, it was gripping, and it was slowly strangling her. She wasn't like normal light she realized. Normal light fades, gradually, from the outside. Normal darkness has to start from the outside. This light - her light right? - this light was diminishing from the inside, from her. The darkness was starting from her.
Within her.
She could feel herself cracking, riiiip, into a million of itty-bitty pieces. But she had to shine.
She had to. It was her role.
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The Third Week
Is she happy? It nags her mind, fluttering around like a butterfly, slowly; lazy in it's dance, but always there. You always think at one point - she does, she knows she does- that you can outrun that damned bug, but you never do, do you?
She doesn't. That thought is always there.
The darkness has nearly won, her light, her precious light; it's at its end. It only lasts so long. She accepts this.
But, if she is without her light, then where are they?
Where are they?
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The Fourth Week
Everyone, she realizes, hold their own light. She did, at one point. Long -so very long- ago. Now she has no more, and the darkness has won. Without light, all there ever will be is darkness.
All she has is darkness.
It's gone from her eyes, that light, and they notice. Oh how she wishes they hadn't! But they have, and now she's too far gone to care.
Care about her friends.
Her role is gone, her part is played, so why is she here? She has no role, she is no longer light.
She is dark, so very dark.
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The Fifth Week
She sits at the bottom of the well. Not for one or two or three hours. Maybe it's been days.
Subconsciously -that little butterfly; she giggles at the thought- she realizes that maybe she's lost her mind.
Hmm..maybe.
It's at the bottom - on her side? Maybe not- off the well that she finally gets it. Finally gets why it's gotten so dark.
If she shines for them, and they shine for them, then who-who shines for her?
No one, that's who.
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The Sixth Week
She sits, singing a little lullaby. It's not a happy one, but it's the truth. It's her truth.
She doesn't know anymore, doesn't know if she's actually here. Maybe now she's become the darkness. It's consumed her, taken away everything she knew.
She's become part of that intangible darkness, she's nothing more then ashes in the wind.
Maybe she's not even that.
There gone, she's gone, it's how it should be.
And like that her mind has gone, shattered, and she never even knew.
I'm sorry everyone, I couldn't shine bright enough