Margret meandered down the hallway, not looking at anyone in particular, but trying to memorize how each face perceived her. Her sudden head swings tried to take it all in, documenting for her future self how others looked into her eyes. Couldn’t they see it? It was right in front of them, but the pity she saw in those that would look into her eyes was so shallow that they would never find the depths where she hid her soul. Margret wished she could just scream, but she knew no words would come out. Everyone knew that about her. Just when it was about to get too painful to bear, Christopher came around the corner. He placed his muscular arm around her and began to guide her back to her room. She began to cry silently as always. Chris leaned in close. “It’ll be okay,” he said to everyone watching the spectacle. Soon they were back to her room, and Chris picked Margret up and placed her on her bed. “It’ll be all better in a bit,” he said as he closed her door, staying in her room. Margret tried to scream, but her voice betrayed her, just like Chris.