She was stuck between four walls. Trapped by the place she loved the most. Hating every single thing and every one was all she did the whole week. Suffocating was the floor she loved to lay down on. Two people who were not with her were her escape mechanism for the week. Sleep was the other mechanism that she used. Watching matches became her third escape. Eating 3 meals a day became gradually harder. Maybe, it’s the fear of finally agreeing to make decisions she was escaping from for almost two years now. Maybe, it’s facing everyone all over again. Maybe, she wanted solitude. Maybe, it was not having anything exciting to do. Maybe, the word she hates the most. Indecisiveness will be the cause of her death. She uses ‘maybe’ to tease others. That’s different. This maybe meant being unsure, being indeterminate, which is not pretty. Unpleasant was all she was the whole week. Extremely passive-aggressive and she couldn’t handle it. Rude would be the perfect word to describe it. Running away from her problems which is often convenient is what she found herself doing this week. What was she running from? What was she so afraid of? Why couldn’t she eat? Why couldn’t she say a few sentences without getting irritated? What was it that was taunting and haunting her? What did she want? Telling her that this is what was she wanted was the last thing she needed. She needs answers. Not from someone else. She needs to answer her questions on her own. And she hopes she soon does before ruining everything.