The Paper Crane

She couldn't help but withdraw into herself. She was having a hard time connecting with the real world. Her girlfriends chatted away about the campus heartthrob and his latest conquest, placing bets on when she'd be kicked to the curb, as Hannah stared out the window. The sun streamed through the trees leaving vibrant patterns of light and shadows dancing in the puddles on the pavement below. Normally Hannah would have been outside with her camera trying to capture that beauty for her senior showcase. Now it just mocked her. She could still see it, but the desire was gone. What was the point? A pretty picture couldn't cure cancer. It couldn't fill the hole in her heart. And it certainly couldn't bring her back. Michelle had died 3 months ago of leukemia. Hannah and her cousin were close when they were younger, but as the grew up an went to college, the girls naturally drifted apart. Hannah had gone numb when Michelle died. The first few days following the news were completely gone. She remembered the funeral, but only bits and pieces of the luncheon. The girls were overprotective of Hannah at first, being sensitive about any mention of death or cancer when they did movie nights, and making sure Hannah wasn't alone much. Hannah functioned on autopilot for the first few weeks, showing up to classes, meals, even her studio hours. As time passed, the girls started returning to their life as normal, but Hannah still felt lost, and, even worse, empty. It was as if something inside her had simply shut down. She learned to hide inside herself, laughing at their jokes, and eating hearty helpings of the tasteless food. Outwardly, she looked like she'd moved on, but inside Hannah was drawing further and further away. She spent her studio time just staring at her completed pieces, trying to see what had once inspired her to create it. She knew something was wrong and turned to her art to heal, but it was like looking in a mirror, the only thing reflected back was her broken self.

...to be continued

*I really wanted to tell Hannah's story tonight, but I need a little more room and time to let it develop. I'll finish it tomorrow. Thanks for your patience.