Fifty Four

We are all surrounded now, and all I can see is her eyes looking at me with nothing but complete emptiness. She's supposed to be scared, worried, angry, and confused. Loneliness and desperation would've made her more lovable if she hadn't tolerated the idea of being around other people until she loses her breathing and succumb to pain and anger that's long been consuming her. Yet I still feel the urgency to not change her and let her be herself. She needs to be herself otherwise I would lose my sanity if she were not to be herself all the time. I thought she's everything I've ever wanted, until she became someone who became everything I've always despised my entire life.