I pass her every day in the hallway and see the emptiness behind her eyes, and the pain inside of them.
I pass her every day in the hallway and see the emptiness behind her eyes, and the pain inside of them.
I want to be the one to ask her what's wrong, because I know she needs someone to do that for her.
Ive seen her go from a happy blonde to a black hair and black nailed social outcast.
I hate that I don't have the guts to show her someone cares.
