Heartstrings On Fire

A grand floor–to–ceiling window faced the bed, offering an expansive view of the rolling river beyond. It gave the room an airy openness

The floor was carpeted in a plush tapestry that muffled Agnes‘ footsteps as she approached

Sharon seemed oblivious to her entrance, her expression eerily similar to those suffering from depression Agnes had encountered before

They lived in their own worlds, seemingly untouched by the bustle and life around them. Even amidst the hustle of the city, their pervasive gloom and solitude clung to them like a phantom

“Miss Sharon,” Agnes called out gently

Sharon turned her head emotionlessly, but at the sight of Agnes, something flickered in her eyes.

she said

it’s me,” Agnes replied, moving to

broke across her face. “I told Jared I wanted to see you I can’t believe he

the news report. It must have

wasn’t you who released it. I know you won’t

was taken aback by Sharon’s trust

through her, continued, “Over the years, Jared would mention you. You’re just

spoke up. “Sharon, may I call you that? I know this is all terrifying, but if you can’t run from it, you’ve got to face it. No one can hurt you but yourself. Believe that things will

with our lives like it’s some sort of bad joke – but who are we trying to frighten, exactly? Surely no one cares. Surrounded by luxury, yet we persistently dwell in self–pity as if we’re the leads in a tragic

the ocean and asked Jack a similar question. There’s this line that stuck with me. She said. “I feel like I’m standing in a crowded room screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up.” You’re like her. I can understand that feeling.