I thudded to the floor, broken, wishful, and empty. I slowly leaned back, hoping that nothingness would catch me, but that was too hopeful. My back slammed into the side of my bed, only shattering me further. The room was bright and it burned my eyes, forcing me to squint. I hated the large window that stretched across the wall behind me, I hated the room itself, and I hated my loneliness. I looked down at myself. Today I was in pure, innocent white. I was disgusted at how little it represented me. I didn't deserve the title of pure, and certainly not innocent. I had caused this. It was my fault. And I didn't want to accept it. 

But I had to. 

And I did.

I had to leave them behind. I didn't want to. I swear I didn't. 

Please forgive me.

My eyes stung, but no tears emerged. They had been dry for days. I instinctively wiped my cheeks, but received nothing. It was disappointing. It was like I wasn't even human any more. 

A vase full of flowers fell off the oak cabinet opposite me. Glass shattered and flew in several directions, pouring over the floor like spilt milk. The lilies that were once in the vase smacked onto the hard, wooden floorboards, and their fragile stems broke. Petals scattered with the impact. I crawled over and picked up the petals one by one, cupping my hands together. I held them as if they were the most delicate things in the world. I stumbled back to the bed and placed the bundle I had collected on the middle of the bed. I inched myself onto the bed and turned my back to the petals. I pulled my legs to my chest and lay there, my eyes closed. For once, I felt peaceful again. 

I was on my way.