There is a certain fog that can only be classified and seen by those who know the emptiness, the exhaustion. It starts out slow, a light misty feeling almost as if you’re running through a sprinkler in your clingy clothing on a sweltering summers day. The hot dry air dries off the droplets of water as they run down your legs, sinking into your skin. This mist cannot be dried off; it takes more than the heat of the sun to expel this tenacious haze as it clings to your skin, sinking in like suntan lotion. Once it reaches your skin it infects, permeates through your entire body. Discernible through crowds of people, to everyone but the person lost within it.
No one can help them now, as they slide down the slippery slope, into the silvery milky white atmosphere that’s so enticing, so inviting. Life is a nebulous rollercoaster ride, blurred, filled with colors and sunshine, happiness but one hairsbreadth away.
Eyes drooping, feet shuffling on the ground, they walk slowly to their next destination. A to B, survival is where they’re at. Skin that was once sun kissed and luminous is now a parched white, a thirsty deprived white that begs for some color. One touch from those silvery hands is all it takes to feel the ice that runs through their veins, leads their life, stronger than they are. Icy skin and shuffling feet are nothing when one looks into their eyes. Beautiful cerulean blue eyes that saw the world, noticed when someone dropped their credit card or smiled in their naturally ebullient way, gone. Empty blue black slates of mirrors have replaced those eyes. Mirrors that yell, mirrors that scream out for help. Teachers look into those eyes, sad faces reflect off those eyes, worried faces don’t get through those eyes. All I see when I look into those eyes is a reflection of a lost girl, gone.