She furiously paced up and down the small open space in her bedroom. Her emotions were in turmoil and rage was the easiest one to grab and hold on tightly to. Every day a new accusation. Every day one to often build on old. Something had to be done, but there was nothing she could do. Knowing when to give up and let things go had never been her strong point, and she wasn't about to stop now about something she felt passionately about. Something she cared deeply about. What did it matter though?
     She sighed haughtily in resignation and fell onto her bed, burying her face in the multitudes of pillows that adorned it. Silent tears cascaded across cheeks flushed with anger. Being like this was something she hated. She felt weak and fragile, even when she knew she was stronger than she often gave herself credit for. A jingle of tags and a shake of the bed brought her out of her brooding. Her dog crept up beside her and laid his head on the blanket under her. A simple gesture. Just an acknowledgement of his presence and wanting to be near. She rubbed his head and crawled under her comforter, praying this wouldn't be another sleepless night.


     I don't know. I've been having off and on urges to write. I just never seem to know what exactly it'll be until I'm done typing it and at that point I have no wish to erase what effort was there, heh.