She sits there- watching.

Watching him sit there.

Twiddling his thumbs.

Shaking his leg.

Biting his lip.

Pretending to pay attention to everything by her.

No matter how hard she tries, he just won't see her. Won't realize that she is there.

She kickes him. She pokes him. She friggin punches him in the god-damn head.

She screams at him. Over and over again, until she feels her voice go. She shakes his shoulders in desperation.
But, alas, her efforts are for naught.

And so she simply sits on his desk- leaning back toward the wall- and sighs deeply.
"You know," she says, exhaustion beginning to creep into her voice, "you used to
try to ignore me. Now you don't even realize there's someone to ignore. Christ. Can't you, for once in your life, open your eyes? Just open your eyes and look at me. I'm right here."

Yet, she knows that he can't see her. She knows that he will never see her again.

And there- on the brown, stained desk, littered with notebooks and pencils- she sits. Waiting for the bell to ring.

God. What a concept. Monotheistic, polytheistic, even athiest, that concept was so grand, so mighty, not even the brightest or the most intuitive could really figure it out.

She was never either. She chose to ignore the concept when she could. It never really affected her.


An accidental gunshot. An innocent girl trying to save the love of her life.

A drunk driver. A bus coming around the corner a tad too fast. And the girl who was too upset to look both ways first.

And the men who loved. One bathed in the murky light of smog of the industry, and fog of early morning. The other bathed in the bright light of a street lamp, surrounded by the darkness of night.

Lastly the girl. The girl who never wanted to believe in God, but was forced to anyway. The girl who loved the wrong man once, and refused to love the right man again. The girl who always had the black hair and the black eyes. The girl who died young.

The girl whom this story is about.

Hello, Dark. Welcome to Limbo.