by It was no question that Lena had once, a long time ago, suffered from this. It was just after Vanka's death, when the weight of the world on her shoulders was too much to bear. More often than not, she had a glazed look in her eyes as if she wasn't listening, and barely spoke at all. She would burst into tears at the smallest things, and would spend most of her days outside just running.
She remembered those runs. They were often pointless. She would stop in the middle of nowhere, staring at the sky for what seemed like hours before resuming to run before stopping again. She would sometimes be out of the house the whole day, and when she came back, she would ignore anyone who tried to talk to her. She couldn't remember how she had come back into the world. Perhaps she just... moved on.
Clutching herself on the ground, Lena stared around at the toilet lid she had been sitting on. She pressed the flush and exited the room, deciding to lay herself down in the middle of the wet bath, all her clothes becoming soaking wet.
She remembered those runs. They were often pointless. She would stop in the middle of nowhere, staring at the sky for what seemed like hours before resuming to run before stopping again. She would sometimes be out of the house the whole day, and when she came back, she would ignore anyone who tried to talk to her. She couldn't remember how she had come back into the world. Perhaps she just... moved on.
Clutching herself on the ground, Lena stared around at the toilet lid she had been sitting on. She pressed the flush and exited the room, deciding to lay herself down in the middle of the wet bath, all her clothes becoming soaking wet.
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