Smile, be brave. She whispers softly to the strange girl in her mirror.

These are the days when she wakes up feeling so tired. Her character seemed to have somehow dissolved through the years, perhaps washed away by the tears which refused to flow so frequently anymore. Where is the silver lining to the cloud? The thunderstorm had cleared off to make way for the next thunderstorm. Will the thunderstorms ever end?

The ceiling looks so high from the ground.
The marble floor so cold.

Its not like she's not trying to be happy.
The girl in the mirror just looks so tired.