She wore facade of a happy person while her self esteem crumbled. She fought to keep up with her friends with everything. No one understood because she wouldn't speak about it all anyone noticed is her smile seemed a little more forced her happiness a tad more dramatized. Everybody who thought they knew her didn't. She was giving up on life, simply put she didn't give a shit anymore. She was falling from grace at break neck speed. She could feel the entirety of her being screaming for help. Pleas which the real her held captive under a vow of no longer bothered to write. Reading was just an escape from the endless days dragged on she realized she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment of her downfall. As she closed her eyes and tried to sleep bad memories like old movies takes found themselves behind her began to get jumpy and paranoid for no real no longer enjoyed being with her friends other than to keep up no longer cared who she dated if it kept her from being lonely. Everything to her was figured shed sleep through it so she did as she began to backtrack through her life.