She wiped away tears. She finished crying over her broken heart and picked up the pieces again. She dried her face on her trusty old music-box doll's thread-bare skirt. A sniffle escaped her as she stood up and felt her way across the floor with her feet. She opened her door and ran a hand down the hall as she walked cat-like to the bathroom.<br/>She looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. Something in her face made her look sad. She was sad, but always sad looking. She scrutinized her blue eyes that changed depth and color as much as she changed clothes.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">You don't get it, do you?</span>she bushed the comment aside and turned her attention to her forehead. she shivered as she remember the night she got the scars.<span style="font-style: italic">I asked you a question!</span>the voice exclaimed louder. she sighed.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">No. I don't get it.</span>She replied as you would to a small child.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">didn't think so. No one wants you.</span>She shook her head, heading for the kitchen for some food. on her way there her door bell rang.<br/>She wondered who it was and went to open it.