Put It In The Oven For Frollo & Me

I Am He Is

It's getting late, and the sun begins to set painting the sky in hues of purples, oranges, and pinks. Ica who has just turned 30 years old, decided to take a walk, not that it did her any good. She's had a rough day. Ica sufferers from bipolar disorder and as a result must get treatment for it.

However, out of frustration for not being heard by her useless psychiatrist, she has stopped taking her medicine cold turkey. And because of this she has had a major episode. She has pushed all her friends and family away, cursing them out in an angry rage. Others have simply removed themselves from her life. Feelings of loneliness and despair swallow her up like water down a drain. Hiding beneath her sleeves and trousers are freshly made cuts. The razors, stained red, lay on the ground by an abandoned dumpster. She couldn't bear to keep them with her, afraid of how far she might go.

As she continues down the path, she sees a man walking toward her. His head down, eyes tired. He's an aged man, slender face, and his thinning gray hair falls in strands around his face. Ica can't help but feel drawn to him somehow. As he walks passed her, his eyes meet hers for what seems like minutes, but he quickly averts them. From what she saw in his dark gray eyes was sorrow and great distress. As the space grows further between them, she turns and looks back at him wondering if he felt as alone as she did.