Sick

I watch her pale empty face. She obviously hasn’t let the sun kiss her pale cheeks golden in a long time. She has great big midnight bags under her icy blue eyes. I’m guessing that sleep must be none other than a distant memory, an experience that she hasn’t been blessed with for quite a while. Her dark heavy eyes stare blankly at the ceiling. Maybe she doesn’t even know what sleep is? Her small frame shivers violently in the warm sunlight. Her pale pink lips are chapped and faded, weathered down and left to dry like a muddy African riverbed. Her tangled hair is spit and frayed like old worn ropes. It has lost its youthful sheen and replaced it with a bitter dryness.
She looks like she’s dying.

“Who are you?” Her voice quivers gently, hanging in the air half-heartedly.
“James.” I say while looking down at my feet.
All of a sudden I held an immense interest in my shoes.
“What are you doing here?” She asks suspiciously, pulling her blankets up close to her chin. Like they’re heavy sheets of amour, and I’m some sort of hungry beast with blood dripping down my chin.
“I’m here to see my Dad.” I mumble looking up at her. She seems to have aged and worn away just that little bit more already.
“Go away then. I don’t want to see you.” Her cold words are flung at me like icy blades.
I feel my cheeks flush red and I walk away quickly.
I think it’s called ‘running.’
I really don’t care what you think Waldo.
Yes. I talk to myself. Or at lest to my conscience. Their names Waldo. Why Waldo? Because I always lose my mind.
Where’s Waldo!
Yeah. I think they got the joke.
Ruin my fun.
I’m not in the mood, just, get lost.
Don’t I always?
“Bitch.” I mumble quietly.
And don’t you just love me?
No.
There’s no need to deny our love James!
You weird little fucker! I am not having an affair with my mind!
I shake my head.
And you thought she was sick.

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well, this is the intro....
Any suggestions?

xxxooo
Grace