We're all pretty bizzare... Some of us are just better at hiding it than others.

Day #4

A little after midnight, Eleanor takes off her makeup, her mask. She crawls under the sheets and turns on her ipod. She rolls over and sees the empty spot next to her. Tears well up in her eyes. She begins to think the pain in her chest will never go away. People always leave and Eleanor is left behind. She feels comfort in the music, lets in suck her in and drown out her thoughts. She wonders what it's for. Where does she belong? She fidgets with the bottle of little white pills and prays for something more. She prays for sleep, for the relief of unconsciousness, if only to pass the time and ease her heartache. But, is there something more? She tries to convince herself that there is. She puts the bottle back in her nightstand drawer. As she finally succumbs to sleep, she hears the final notes of the song on her ipod and sheds once last tear.

"All the lonely people, where do they all belong?"