Melancholy

         She put down her book on her bedside table and turned off the lights as gloominess took over her eyes. She blinked once, blinked another time, slower the second time. She was weary; she was desperate for some sleep. You’d think she would close her eyes right then, and sleep through the night like those shining stars sleep through daylight.
         Things change, and things changed right then. She followed the motion of the angry waves that take over the Pacific- she tossed and turned from left to right. The night was dark, the room was dark, and her emotions were nothing different. She put her hands on her forehead as she fought against the miserable images that were escaping the past and running through her mind. The beautiful, peaceful night seemed to have turned into a monstrous enemy. Her life was a battlefield. It was a struggle within her: on one side stood the girl with the sunshine smile, on the opposite stood her past figure with a river of teardrops flowing at her feet. She groaned, she moaned, she tried her best to run away from the past and to focus on the present.
         The night was aging, and it was bringing with it the sorrow of her past. Sure she grinned as long as her friends were around. But her smile was faked. The night was a moment of truth. She had not escaped the past, but rather the ghastly figure from the past had entered present life. She was defeated. Her eyes still watered the flowers that were printed on her bed sheet. She still went through the tough time, blame on the mistakes that were stamped in her history.
         Only if she could go one more step back, she could alter her past doings, and make her present life better. But no, she was trapped in the time right when the world turned on her, in the time when the Seven Seas would fill a bottle and her teardrops- a barrel. Her eyes were blood red, sleepiness long gone. It was nothing different than the last few nights. She was trapped in her past.