She hides from the shadows as if they will capture her, what she doesn't know is they're behind her. They follow at a steady pace all they want is a glimpse of her face. Not because the beauty that lies on the outside but the strength that lies within. She gets a chill that becomes more direct by the step, she penetrates backwards but only to reveal the shadows are becoming more distinct and the distance is getting shorter between. As she closes her eyes she feels the crisp air on her neck, as the chills spread, she reached down to grasp the bottle in her purse as if a bottle of pills would justify the life she was too afraid to live. She looked swiftly behind her to witness nothing but the mellow wind and the cringed damp streets under vintage pasted lamps. As her knees collapsed she had nothing left to figure out because the fact that her trembled life had caused her nothing but fear and sometimes that's too scary for us all to even admit or even for us to be worth living, after all they were just shadows.