A girl. Standing with her head to the ground, looking at her shoes. She’s young, pretty, full of potential, or so they say. Then again, They say a lot of things.
The girl slowly raises her head and turns her attention to the bat in her hands. It’s normally used for entertainment purposes, but not today. Today, the girl has a different plan in mind. Something she needs to do.
Yet They have crept into her head, screaming for her to walk away. So she stands for a minute before nodding with determination and heading into the factory.
The factory is a small, dark room within the girl’s own heart. But a familiar room, well kept and secret. She turns on the light and a flood of mixed emotions welcomes her in. The cogs, the fire, the metal, all glare back at her. Then she turns her attention to the mission, the reason she is here for this last time.
She approaches the tall shelf with her prized possessions and her greatest joys. The Idols don’t look as shiny as they once were. She grips her bat and swings -as hard as she possibly can. Shattering of glass can be heard for miles. They surely know. But she doesn’t care anymore.
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