The last person you spoke to

And finally she stood alone.

Finally? As if that had been her goal. Her goal to hear the last one screaming at her as they left. Wait, there had been no screaming by that point. The last to leave her, that woman had exited quietly, a haunted look in her eyes. No more vocal protests, only the quiet pleading that she change her mind. That she reach out.

Like she would ever bother. The fact they would all leave her was proof enough that reaching out was the most foolish action to take. They wouldn’t trick her. She knew better. Just because they couldn’t handle her truth didn’t mean that she had to follow suit. She knew better.

Knowing better meant standing alone sometimes.

Meant standing alone all the time.

Standing alone.


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