I'am coming home.
She flees from the screaming, the hatred. Locks herself behind closed doors, screaming in pain, agony, she wants to be noticed. She wants someone to care. To fix her. To look into her eyes and say 'you're not fine'.
Every night she lays, counting her every flaw. Oh how the list goes on! She pleads with God, saying 'what have I done to deserve this! Was it so evil to put me through this? Why!? Why are you testing me! I'am breaking God, I'll be coming home soon, just you wait.' She screams, yet no one seems to hear.
People say she can't act, yet everyday she puts up a front, smile here, laugh at this, say that. No not that! Now they stare at her like she's grown another head. She tugs at her sleeves, trying to hide the scars that the demons of life have given her. People say she's weak, scared, far from brave. Yet everyday she fights until she sleeps, sometimes even then. She doesn't get a break!
At the end of the day, she lays on her bed with a full bottle of pain killers, thinking maybe this will numb the pain. She takes hand full after hand full, swallowing each and every one. She feels her heart slow, thinking this is it. Freedom at last. She looks up at the ceiling with a smile on her face. 'Told ya id be coming home soon.' She whispers as her eyes close for the last time.
She was an angel, sent to save the world, yet she failed. Oh how she failed! So her wings were ripped off, exposed to the pain and sin of this living hell, she thought, and thought of a way to get back to her home. And the only way was death. So she chose death over this hell called earth.