• You watch her, the girl with sad eyes, and wonder how she got there. She sists on the stone bench of the park, staring off into space. Her cheeks pale and lifeless, her chest moving to indicate the need for oxygen, and her lips relaxed on her face.

    The wind blows her hair, swooping it up the letting it flutter back to it's resting point. No special color, some cross between dirty blonde and brunette. Her floor length skirt swishes slightly in the breeze, settling eventually. Her arms prop on the bench, palms braced and helping her to lean forward ever so slightly, legs crossed at the ankles underneath the many layers of her skirt.

    Your attention goes back to her eyes and the dieing embers of hope lost within them. You don't know why, but you want to hold her and scoop away all the unbearable depression. You want to touch her hand and feel how hers shakes in yours. You want to bottle yourself up so she has you to take with her, and use you whenever she needs a smile.

    If you called out to her, would that sad, blank look stare your way, or would she not even notice?

    You don't know her name, or why she's there, or what her story is. You want to help, any way you can.

    A fleeting moment, you're back in your own memory. You saw her before, smiling and laughing. She was wearing a sundress, long and fitting, spinning so that it twirled with her, the balls of her bare feet the only thing touching the ground. She laughed carelessly, throwing up her arms and belting out notes to the world. Ribbons in her hair flew with her, creating a dance of their own.

    What happened to that girl, so full of life? Where did she go? And now that she is all alone...Why does no one else see her, why does no one comfort her?

    You turn back, stepping forward to go run and pull her into your arms, to tell her that everything is ok, to let her know that she will never be alone again...but you can't...for she is no longer there.