She knew there was no use in telling them how she actually felt.
Because the effort she puts in to make sure they're okay, is not the effort she would get in return.
So she painted a smile on her face. Dreaded every second of combing her hair. Forced herself to put the clothes on her back. Hesitated to open the door, but still did. Walked out that door. And pretended to be okay.
But when she gets home,
She wipes the smile off her face. Ties her hair up. Slips out of the clothes on her back. Falls into bed. Stairs at the ceiling. Feeling nothing but,
Numb
