Nothing. She thinks about nothing. She’s been slowly worn down to the point where there’s not a thing left anymore. So when she gets home, what else can she do? To escape. She wants there to be nothing in her world. Just herself and the floor (which doesn’t judge.) Slam. Click. The door locks and the lights are flicked off. One step closer to being away from it all. The closet floor offers protection. A small room where no one can find her. Lying down on the soft carpet, the tears fall from her eyes. The surface below her becoming damp with the drops.
The convulsions begin. All control has been lost as she is descending into the darkness of her mind. Silence. The attack ceases when she can take it no longer. As she’s curled up in a ball, it happens for just one moment. Blank. This is what she is looking for. In a single instant the only thing running through her brain is—well, nothing.
Her eyes have adjusted to the pitch black and she can vaguely see. As she emptily stares forward, the off-white of the walls is surprisingly calming. But she is still fighting back the choking noises threatening to come out.
For now, she has escaped, but while she sits, she waits. Waits for someone to find her and bring her back to reality. She knows it will come soon. That knock on the door. The voice growing angrier when they realize they can’t get in. But until then, that is no matter. While she can, she enjoys the blackness. The nothing.