The Breakdown: Confrontation

She woke up drenched with sweat, the pain in her chest almost unbearable. There was nothing in the room as usual, but still she looked around. The clock said 3.00am, but she was sure that had to be wrong. Because if it was right, then it meant she had only managed to sleep for thirty minutes. Thirty damn minutes! A month ago, if only, her most detested phrase, would never have been her sing song. A month ago, she would never have guessed that there was a possibility for a still heart to have a wound carved in that hurts even when it refuses to beat. A month ago, she would never have watched her (http://mi-herownworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/shattering-dreams.html).
She lay back on the bed, wondering what she was to do next. Sleep was definitely not forth coming as she had now come to find out, and her thoughts needed to be kept at bay, as they always led to destruction, not a good thing for her in case one was wondering. She glanced at the study table looking at the pile of books she was meant to have read. Suddenly a train passed by breaking the almost deafening silence, and though the sudden sound was startling, she found herself missing it as it faded. The silence seemed to reecho, and with it, others seemed to wake (http://mi-herownworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/things-she-fears.html).
Her most dreaded dream came back to haunt her, and this sleep she knew she would be forced to ride out. She sat in the big room amongst others, all awaiting the same thing. Except with her, she felt those who had come to wait on her were expecting more. What a scary predicament she was in. on the one hand, her self-loathe and definite disappointment she seemed well enough to handle. Years of experience had thought her so. But on the other hand, theirs she was not sure she could take on. Suddenly her name was called, and the others seemed to fade away. She was alone, about to face a crowd of expectations and long lost dreams (http://mi-herownworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/blank-pages.html).
Day is here at last, and her sentence to hell has come to a pause. She gets up, showers and dresses. She puts on the appropriate amount of makeup, not too much to draw the attention, but just enough to cover the scars. The smile is turned on and the eyes begin to twinkle. She turns off the house lights, walks out the house and says a bright hello to all that pass her by (http://mi-herownworld.blogspot.com/2010/05/who-would-believe.html).
So now that you have heard her tale, write her a bed time story to help her day. One that rhymes and brings a real smile to her lips. Not the one she currently owns, that she gets for free, but one she can have and hold. If you do decide to take on this mission, click below and send the tale with the name you wish to be addressed by:
tiazmi@gmail.com

Then refresh the tales in 30 mins (for thats how long she has to sleep), and watch the smile you have given her unfold....
She lives to love, she loves to live, she lies to love, she lies to live….