• She was sad, and alone at an old almost-burnt-down cottage alongside the forest. The forest was huge and dense, wild dangerous animals scouring the night, but she didn’t care. She stood with her back to the path, lost in her world, waiting for him. For he promised to return. To return to her. Her eyes looked around, but yet not focusing on anything. She was talking, but to herself. It was reassurance. Reassurance that everything was okay, everything was alright. Her whole body was shivering but not from the cold. Her breaths were short and rapid, her legs shaky and weak. Who was she? Why was she here? Who was she waiting for? She was looking for something… but what was it?

    Meaning? Life? Death? Purpose? Him. Yes, that must be it. She was looking for him. Her pace quickens with her heartbeat, her will strengthened. It wasn’t life, or death she was seeking. Meaning and purpose would be him, as well. Without him, there goes meaning and purpose, for he, is meaning and purpose. But.

    But who was he? Her head ached, answers shooting in her head, snatching for their own levels of reasoning. Reasons for why she cannot remember a thing, the reason why she was waiting for him, the reason he was so important to her, the reason she was here. Reasons rushed into her head, trying desperately to explain their own reasons. Her head was filled with reasons, which she doesn’t recognize. Her head ached terribly, as she begged and pleaded for them to stop. Anything sooner, she would fall into their traps, and never come out. She cannot - absolutely cannot, fall into their traps again. They led her to believe that she still had someone and something in her life, but that wasn’t the case.

    She was fighting with the excuses the reasons tried to give. She fell to the ground, hands to her head. He – was just a pretty figment they made up.