The wind whipped and whistled fiercely outside my bedroom window, whispering desperate wishes in my ears, laughing wildly and madly at me, mocking me, as I lay with my eyes squeezed shut amongst the wrecked bedding, tangled sheets, and wiry pillows willing myself to go to sleep, if not for only an hour, before I am forced up and into the winter day where I will be expected to be alive, but instead I will wander wearily through the halls with few words and less will than ever as I withdraw farther and farther down into myself, wanting the voices to go away, watching for signs and waiting for the end of the final day when the worry and wonder will subside and be replaced by white clouds and bright lights – what will it be like when I get there, as this world we live in is cruel as witnessed by so many others like me who only want one more chance to escape the pain before wilting like a dried up flower long forgotten and neglected by society, washed into the gutters like polluted rainwater, and swept under the worn rugs by those around us who only want to forget that we are real people too.