Staring into the darkness of the night, she couldn't help be feel like she was being watched. She saw dark outlines of trees and other shapes from the balcony she stood on, and some she would see figures. They were what were staring at her so intently, weren't they? Were they waiting? It felt like it. They were waiting for her it seemed.

Looking at the various inhuman figures more intently, she could make out dark sunken eyes and mouths saying something. What did they say? Why were they here? She stood, staring at them, confused. At first their presence frightened her, but now she just wanted to help them. Could she help? She didn't know. She didn't even know what to do for them. With one last glance at the figures spread out in the darkness of the night, she retreated back into the house, a sinking feelings in the pit of her stomach.

~.~.~.~

I saw her, there on the balcony. I screamed, hoping to be heard above the rest. I couldn't take the pain of their screams, or my own. Why didn't she help? Why doesn't she answer us? I know she can see us. She stares at us for so long, but does not say a word. I hurt so much. My insides feel like they are being torn apart slowly by my creator. I feel agony, physically and emotionally. I'm beaten down with every scream I hear and every one I make.

Why is it she just stands there? I scream for help, to be saved from the endless pain, but she still is unmoving. She created us, so why would she throw us away like she has? I only want to be there for her, to live out the purpose I was given when she created me. Why would she make me, us, then torture us so?

She needs to come back home. She shouldn't have ever left. She shouldn't have ever left us here, living a never ending death in the darkness she used to light with her presence. Our creator destroyed us and our home, leaving us to rot.

She finally moves, and I think for a second that she has finally heard us, but she goes back inside of the house. I feel myself start to fade away from my spot, dissipating into the air becoming nothing as she leaves us once more. When she's here, I am in hell, but when she is not, I am nothing. I don't know which one is worse, and I can't dwell on the fact anymore once the last of me fades, my thoughts and being ceasing to exist once again.