She stared at the blank walls covering her. Her shutters, never opened. The darkness, she felt, painfully comforting. Her bed, undone. Her clothes, a mess. Her life, she thought with a smirk, a mess.
She took another drag and then burned the cigarette out.
Oh such hollow eyes. How many days has she gone without sleep? She rubbed her dry palms over her face. She stared at the face that was in front of her. What an expression, there was- none. She bent her head down and turned the tap open. The running water seemed to drown all the other noises away. Noises she couldn't escape. Noises that were haunting her head.
He loves me. She stroked the water with her index finger. Her eyes, fixated on the tiny splashes it made as she ran her finger through it.
Why does he love me? She twisted the tap violently while the water gushed out even more hurriedly and profusely now. She closed her eyes and rested her head by the sink. Her entire hand now under the pressure of the water that was running.
How much does he love me? She hummed a tune. She did not recognize this tune, but it came out of her as naturally as the water that was coming out of that tap. What a sad tune, she thought. Such a melancholic melody should not exist. Not from her. She had run her emotions dry. There was nothing left to give, or feel. Yet, this tune still came out of her.
She bolted up and looked at herself in the dirty mirror of her bathroom. She looked at the stained tiles under her feet. Of liquor, of tears and of blood. She rubbed her feet together until they burned from the friction of contact. She stared at them- a bright shade of red.
He loves me; not at all.
With that last thought, she collapsed.
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The only "productive" thing I did for today.
The new poster for the play. Not what I envisioned but definitely better than the previous one I made. All I need is the approval from the director :)
I need plans for tomorrow.