Anxiety cannot be tempered into strength, it is a force of paralysis, and something to be ran away from.
The indecisiveness of those who are forced to making a decision in a moment's notice, while all sorts of desires for the future will be taken away after the choice is made, requires the careful consideration that they aren't given the liberty to exercise.
…
There exists a ghost.
Without any form other than the image of herself, one which no one else can see or interact with, she is forced to live on the sidelines to everything, including her own life, for it is the life that she has lost.
Wanting, intending action, the best the ghost can do is scream to no avail.
At times the pointlessness of despair is succumbed to, as she screams in everyone's face and running through their bodies in the hopes they would feel her sadness, but it is pointless, so in most cases she just remains silent with no reason to feel as she does.
Wanting and intending to feel, but having no life of her own to have the right to bare such willpower, tears are nothing but sensations, physical stimulations like the light that hits the eyes, data points, interpretations, associations.
She forgot how to feel, and so, forgot an important part in how to remember as well.
Slowly, her memories disappeared, as an obsession began to possess her, "who will see me, if I can't even see myself anymore?".
The ghost prays, hoping for that chance to be heard or seen.
There is no God here.
…
A hundred years pass.
The ghost forgot everything.
The best way to deal with hopelessness is to give up, and decades after having given up does whatever it is she has become feel comfortable with waiting for nothing.
She isn't mindless, consciousness and awareness is still there, but she's perfected the art of doing nothing.
No thought, no feeling, no movement, not even can her attention be grabbed when the boy speaks to her.
"Hey! Are you okay? What are you doing here like this on the floor?"