She walks in circles, damned and alone. Her center point is a rock, the very rock she slides her fingers upon as she walks. The ground beneath her has eroded away, nothing but sand beneath her toes. Nothing but nothing, as she would like to say. Time is of no relevance; time is not kept. The sun sets and rises; all she does is walk.
What is around her is a desert, a land of waste. It once stood strong, once stood proud, but now it is gone. There was once a town, a city, people and life. The world was once green, the world was once whole. Now everything is gone. It is empty for all to see. Nothing lives, nothing breathes. Erased from the very ground she walks upon. The memories of what were are the only things she holds on to. She is fearful of those memories slipping away. Nothing else matters, nothing else pains her so, just the memories of what used to be. What she once had and what she has now, plagues her mind and her thoughts. Things have changed, things will change, nothing gets better; when you are already in hell, and she is certain that that is where she is.
She walks to forget, to erase the memories and the pains in her heart. She walks in her circle forcing the memories of pain to dissipate. With each lap, something is lost; with each step, something is gone. It is a never ending cycle, of pain and remorse, as she walks to forget, walks in only one course. She knows the tears are falling, she knows she can not stop them. They hit her cheeks and tumble to the ground, to be lost in the nothingness, like everything else. The sand soaks up the tears and removes them from the world. No evidence of crying, no evidence of life.
The rock has obtained a groove, from her fingers against its surface. A groove so deep her hand is almost lost. All the pain, all the suffering, it has all gone into the rock. The rock has its own path, one carved into its side. It matches that of his owner as she walks along side. It knows nothing of her pain and her suffering, only that he is bound to her, and that he is helping her continue on. He is forced there just as she is. Forced to endure the pressure from her fingers, forced to endure the only source of eroding being her fingers. The time passes as it sits there blindly, with his owner.
The world has lost her in its own pain, forgetting the child it placed upon its surface. She is damned to walk, in that big circle, forgetting the past, forgetting the people. Her family is gone and she is alone. There is nothing for her to do but walk. Walk in circles, walk in dirt. The dirt left from the surrounding world piling in on her. Her tears help, to remove the dust, but it is still piling up, burying her alive. The world left her there, ignoring, or forgetting, the very presence she has on the surface. She is being swallowed completely and she cannot stop it. No one can.
There is no escape from this hell. She knows no way out and truly, she would rather not find one. She is okay with where she is; knowing the world is caving in on her has brought her some kind of peace. It is not hope in her heart, but a knowledge she has developed over the years that tells her it is going to be ok. She believes she deserves to suffer this pain and agony, this on going torment of silence and repetition. She's not going to live, she's not going to die, but she knows she going to survive this miserable pain for one more day, only to repeat the cycle. Trying to think of the future is lost to her, for she knows if she does it will all be lost, even the memories of what was she holds on to dearly.
Her fingers will hit the center of the rock one day and its unstable weight will cave in on the ground beneath her. She will collapse; she will pass through the surface to a new dimension. Maybe that will be better, maybe she will not be plagued, but she doubts it. A new task, a new torment, awaits her when she is done with this one. She can feel it. She will be in pain, and she knows it. Just another thing that nags at her brain. Everything except for what was, and what she hopes will come is shoved away. There is no room in her heart anymore for her pains and her regrets. She has vowed to let them go, let them float away and find someone else to torment.
She hopes there are others, people unlike herself. Ones that can steer away from their never ending course to find a better life. She is stuck where she is, and she knows it is because of free will. The idea of walking off has come up but once, and it was shoved away instantly. No reason to abandon what you know, no reason to leave it behind. Why die fighting, when she can forever live in solitude? A solitude that of course causes pain, but what does not? This is her core, this is her center. She could step away but she is afraid to know what will happen if she decides to do that.
Her tears fall, soaking her clothing. She finds herself regretting her decisions, which is something she vowed never to do. Sighing, she glances at her fingers, at the groove they have caused. A simple movement, that is all that is needed. There is nothing physical holding her to the surface, nothing keeping her there. Her path is deep but she can find her way out, all she has to do is lift her fingers from its surface. Remove her connection to the stone that has been her life line for the longest time. Change is coming, but does that mean she cannot cause the change? Maybe this is suppose to happen, maybe this is predestined.
Glancing away and out at the sky she sighs and closes her eyes. Night, stars and the world. Stars are evidence that there must be someone out there with her. In her mind she only believes stars are there for more than once person to see. Why be so beautiful if no one can see you?
If only she was strong enough, if only. Without thinking, without stopping her circle she lifts her fingers from the surface for a moment. The hellish screams in her head are enough to drive a man insane, drive him to his knees. They are thousand storms ripping apart her insides; they are a million people screaming out their lungs. It is the world complaining about her stopping, it is the world forcing its pain on her. She was designed to carry the weight of the world, forced to do so and giving up is not an option. She can feel the weight reaching through her body and tightening on her heart. Pain, guilt, remorse, and hell all burst through and she screams out into the silence. After a brief second of the screaming, she caves. Her screaming silenced, she places her fingers back on the rock and continues in her path. The tears flow freely, and she smiles a little.
No escape, no need to try. The world will not let her, forcing her back into the constant path. She is destined to die, and die she will. There is no fighting, there is no escape. She is stuck. Stuck in this hell. Alone. Damned. Broken.