Wendy’s mind is never empty. Sometimes she hates herself for it.

There’s a baking track that plays inside of her mind. Behind the conscious and unconscious thoughts, slithering behind the parade of feelings that come and go, there’s a constant, blurred voice that whispers anxieties.  

They’d be better off without you.

It makes her tense up. Makes her clench her jaw and strain her  ears to take in all the noises that surround her. Snippets of conversations, voices louder than normal, noises through the thin walls, they all drive her insane.

You’re worthless.

There’s drums in her head playing a warbeat and Wendy is never at peace.

Is there really a point in trying?

And so she bakes, she sings, she dances until her legs give out. Anything and everything to drown out the noise inside of her head.

There’s no point in you being here

Sometimes all she overthinks so much that she gets a headache. Then all the sounds that surround her cause her pain. The noise outside of her head sets off the noise inside of her head and everything begins to hurt.

You’ll never amount to anything.

If it’s a free day. She’ll stay in bed. In the comfort of her dark room, with her music playing softling, Wendy lets herself fall apart. Knowing that she’ll have to put herself back together when she leaves.

“I said that I’d give all my love to you, remember?”

And Irene’ll stay with her. She’ll