She pulled her jacket tighter around her as a cool breeze wafted and whipped her hair. It was nice there, upon the rooftop. The dark purple sky above had tempted her to secretly climb the rusted ladder to the apartment's roofing. Sitting there, feet dangling on the edge, she was overcome with a sense of calm. Looking down three stories up she could see the whole neighborhood; the overgrown lawns, the tiny parked cars, and the various lights within rooms where people dwelled. As night enveloped her world she listened and wondered. It felt unearthly to wait and watch as one by one the lights went out and the silence of sleep overcame the people.

There were many things she wanted. She wanted to go back, to feel and be happy, to be with her friends. She wanted to runaway. But amidst these things she wanted to sit there forever and hide from her fears. She stood, like a depressed poet wanting to escape. An artist wanting to unleash their soul through their drawing. She wanted very well to scream. And scream she did. A blood curdling if heard would have others wake in horror accusingly wonder if the girl was murdered. Such imaginations of self-destruction were not good. But her screaming was all in her mind where it was safer for her fragile heart to release and flee in desperation.

Stepping back a cracked noise brought her to her being. It was pieces of broken glass. She picked it up not intending to hurt herself, but instead she looked at her reflection. The reflection was of a crescent moon in a star filled black sky. Then there was her face; tears began to trickle down warningly. Soon it became a downpour no longer able to control. Wiping them off and breathing steadily she looked back once at the neighborhood below and then climbed back down the ladder. Slow footsteps could be heard as she made the short way over the fence, and back to her temporary home. Silence followed thereafter.