Until it ends, there is no end

The sound of the clock echoed in the huge room. I stared up at it, at its pendulum swinging side to side. Time seemed to be dragging on. The room was bare, with only a large window to look out of. Outside it, there was a whole different world. A world full of happiness and joy. But in here, in this house, the world was a completely different place. It was a cruel world; it was a world without love.

I hugged my knees closer to my chest, and rested my chin on top. It was only a matter of time before the sun was going to set, only a matter of time before darkness reached every corner of my life. I have been sitting here all day, continually staring out of the window at the life I wanted, at the life that did not want me. Clouds covered the sun now and again, disrupting the rays of light, as though trying to prevent any chance of hope reaching me.

English: Self Portrait By Edward Hopper

English: Edward Hopper's Girl at Sewing Machine

English: Edward Hopper's New York Restaurant

I was being consumed by the dullness of the room, drowning in the murky green. The rays of light were my lifelines, reaching in to pull me out, but I could not grasp them.

I walked over to the mirror and saw a reflection of myself. It angered me. Why did I have to be so different? Why did I have to be me? I hated myself and I hated the reflection that stared back at me day in and day out. I hated it so much that I hadn't realised that shards of glass lay scattered on the floor and that blood was trickling from my hand. I curled into a ball on the floor, and wept as I rocked back and forth.

I remember my grandmother telling me...