Everybody yearns for a little bit of dystopia, sometimes.

She sat by the window, hugging her knees. Rocking back and forth, back and forth. It was drizzling lightly; the raindrops hit the window pane gently, so gently. She hummed to this tune, the words running through her mind. Romeo save me I've been feeling so alone, I keep waiting for you but you never come...

She felt alone, not that this felt unfamiliar. She's felt this way since, well, since she could remember. "How would you know, how would you possibly know how I feel inside?" Her insides were bleeding, her body was failing. Damn the lymphoma, damn it, damn it all.

"You said you'd be by my side. You said you'd wipe those tears away. You said I wouldn't ever need to feel pain. You said..." Bitterly, softly, she weeped. She struggled hard to breathe. Ah, the irony! Why'd she need to breathe? To live? So she could suffer? Is that it?

She rocked herself, back and forth, back and forth. She cried, her heart heavier with each tear shed. When will I get to live on the clouds? Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow.