Every night it was the same. Every night. She'd drift through her day. She would scheme, plan, flirt, lie, and cheat but at the end all she did was cry. She cried never-ending pain-filled tears. Everything she did she did for love. Everything. In the light she fooled herself into believing but at night reality was plunged into her skin like a long needle stabbing her over and over again. Why did she do it? Why did she care? Why did she love him? God was playing games and she was the chess piece. So she cried. She wept. She poured her screaming soul into the river of pain that fell down her face. She cried.