Years blurred together.
Friends came and went.
Teachers changed.
Parents aged but remained cold.
Life moved on around her, and Lilly did not. She existed.
She survived.
That was all.
Sometimes, she would sit by the window at night, watching rain streak the glass, and imagine a life she could not have.
The thought of love, of pride, of genuine recognition, made her chest ache in a way nothing else could.
She forced herself to stop thinking, to stop feeling.
Because feeling reminded her: she would never have it.